


Stone Butch

by Havoka



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, instant knight gf just wake her from stone with your screams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-08-28 21:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16731357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havoka/pseuds/Havoka
Summary: Statues don't typically wake up from stone when they hear a pretty girl screaming. But if they're *really* dedicated to their knighthood, they might.





	1. Giant Soldier of Stone

“An art auction? Seriously?” Hana had taken surprisingly well to being partnered with Overwatch’s newest recruit, architectural prodigy Satya Vaswani, but she had never been one for the “high culture” events Satya seemed so fond of attending. 

“Art is the highest accomplishment of the human animal,” Satya had replied in her usual grandiose manner. “It exists as a testament to the conquering of our brutish survivalist origins. It stands boldly in the face of all that the violent and chaotic natural world represents.” 

Hana simply pursed her lips and nodded in pacifying agreement. When Satya had first come to Overwatch it seemed only natural to the organization’s new leadership that the other young prodigy should be the one partnered with her to ease her transition into the org. But after listening to her sustained delusions of grandeur Hana couldn’t help but wonder if their similarities were more superficial than substantial.  

Regardless, she ended up attending the auction with Satya. The auction house looked like a museum on the inside, bright white walls holding massive framed paintings highlighted by wall washer lights and surrounded by security guards. Satya had dressed in her usual finery, a glittering sapphire evening gown with a matching necklace, shoes with an impractically tall heel, and delicate evening gloves that seemed almost parodic, yet Satya somehow managed to make it work without looking _too_ over-the-top. Hana herself had donned her usual go-to black dress for fancy events, and had her hair styled up at Satya’s “suggestion” (more akin to a snide comment at the time, but once arriving at the event Hana was glad she had followed the tip. All of the women had their hair styled in fancy updos, and she would have stood out glaringly otherwise). Thick coverup masked the scar on her cheek that was normally hidden behind her war paint.

They were offered drinks as they entered, which Hana would gladly have taken, but Satya waved the server off with a wrinkled nose and a haughty lift of her chin. “So I’m guessing you don’t drink?” Hana asked as they meandered further inside the art showing. 

“I find no need to do so. Why, did you want something?” 

“No, no. Forget it.”  _Can’t risk having any fun at this place, I guess._  

Satya wore an uncharacteristic smile as she studied the paintings in the main hall. “Look here,” she commanded, pointing a gloved finger toward a lifesize portrait of an unfamiliar woman. “The engraving here says this woman passed away more than a decade ago. And yet, through art, she lives on. The closest humankind has come to achieving immortality is through living on forever in our creations.” 

“...But we don’t even know who this lady is,” Hana said. 

“But we do. Her name is Krishnaa Badakar. We know her name and her likeness, and if we wished to we could discover her story. We would not have ever known her except for the art that kept her alive.” 

“Hm. I guess you have a point.” After that Hana tried to study the art pieces with a different perspective. It was true, kind of. The people obviously weren’t  _really_  kept alive by the art depicting them, but in a way their lives  _became_  art after they died. Or maybe even before they died. Hana had never had much of an appreciation for fine art, but she could sort of understand the appeal. It did feel like being a part of something greater than one’s self. 

One room, even more heavily guarded than the painting hall, held a multitude of statues. “Are these up for auction, too?” Hana asked. The pieces were blockaded by thick red rope on all sides, but that did not stop a crowd from gathering around each and every one of them. 

“Indeed.” Satya’s lips twisted a bit at the sight of a nude male statue, detailed to excess. “Statues tend to be exceedingly expensive, but they draw a large audience.”  

Hana glanced casually about at all the sculptures. Most were of humans, though some were of animals, and still others were of fantasy creatures like angels, fairies, and demons. Many were naked, which she found a little weird, but it seemed par for the course in the art world. 

Toward the back of the room was a life-sized sculpture of a knight. Hana approached it curiously. It was incredibly detailed, every little bit of the knight’s armor carved delicately into stone. The knight was posed mid-attack, one hand wielding a mace, the other holding a shield. Upon closer inspection Hana realized the knight was a girl. Her sideswept bangs peeked out from beneath her helmet, and her long hair was pulled through the back of the helmet in a tight ponytail. Even though they were just as much stone as the rest of her, her eyes were alight with determination and bravery. She looked just like a living human.  

“#7734,  _Knightess in Battle_. Year: Unknown. Artist: Unknown.” That was all the plaque on its base said. 

“Hey, Satya.” Moments later Satya appeared at Hana’s side, looking the statue over herself. “This one doesn’t have a name or any information.” 

“Well, it probably isn’t based on a real person. Human imagination is another wonder entirely, with its ability to create creatures and persons who never even existed.” Hana could tell by her tone that she was on the precipice of delving into another philosophical monologue, but she halted herself from doing so. 

“She looks so detailed. It’s hard to believe someone sculpted this just from their imagination.” 

They stared at it for another few moments. Then Satya moved on to the next piece. Hana reluctantly pulled herself away from the knight.  _It looks_ _amazing. Sad the person who made it will never get any credit._ As a figurine collector she could definitely understand the appeal of statues more than paintings. Hell, she kind of wanted this one. 

The auction itself started shortly after they arrived at the house. Hana followed Satya to the seats Satya had reserved for them, toward the front of the auction hall. “Are you planning on buying anything?” Hana asked her as they sat down. 

“It depends. I do have an interest in a handful of the pieces. They would add a nice touch of class to the otherwise...lacking Overwatch base.” 

“You mean my Gundams don’t already do that?” 

Satya sighed. 

One thing Hana learned that evening was that people were willing to drop  _crazy_ amounts of money on paint stuck to a canvas. The auctions were all in rupees, so Hana didn’t have an exact idea of how much people were spending, but they were putting forth some huge numbers. One painting was nothing more than splatters of various colored inks. Even Satya seemed to have little use for those types of pieces. She did not make an offer on any such painting. 

After the paintings, the auction house began to bring out the statues. The human sculpts were by far the most popular of the bunch, though the fantasy creatures had their interested parties as well. Hana watched as each statue went, enthusiasts raising their silly little paddles against one another until all but one had backed down.  

Midway through the statue portion the female knight was wheeled out onto the stage. The auctioneer gave some details about it, noting its mysterious origins and lack of any sort of identifying mark or signature. That seemed to turn some people off – they set their paddles down and began checking their phones or whispering to one another. “People don’t like no-name sculptures, huh?” Hana leaned over to Satya to say. 

Satya nodded. “Many collectors are sticklers for names. They only want known artists of a certain caliber in their gallery.” 

It was such a beautiful statue. Who cared if it had a fancy name attached to it or not? It would look cool on display in someone’s house. Heck, it would look cool at the Overwatch base. 

The opening offer was 750,000 INR. After an initial silence, an older man eventually raised his paddle.  _What?_ ** _He’s_** _gonna_ _bid on that?_  If anything a sculpture like this should go to a woman, Hana thought.  

The offer went once. Another man slowly raised his paddle. The offer jumped to 800,000.  _Are these guys serious??_  Hana watched in disbelief as the first guy raised his paddle again. 850,000.  

“Hana, put that down!” Satya whipped around as Hana's paddle shot up in the air. “They will think you are bidding!” 

Hana kept it up. “We have 900,000,” the auctioneer declared. 

“Hana, what are you doing?” Satya raised one flawlessly-shaped eyebrow in surprise. “Do you really want that statue?” 

“Sort of? I just–” 

A middle-aged woman raised her paddle. “950!” the auctioneer declared. 

Hana jumped up out of her seat. “One million!” 

“...Right.” Satya nodded to herself. “They do say you play to win.” 

Nobody challenged her million-rupee offer. Hana herself had no idea how much money that was, but it wasn’t like money was much of an object to her anyway. She also didn’t have any idea what she was going to do with this statue should she win it, but her thirst for victory never had her thinking as far ahead as the spoils. It was all about the rush of the moment. 

The offer went once. Twice. Three times. Then the auctioneer banged his gavel, solidifying Hana’s newfound ownership of the statue. 

Satya was still staring at her. Hana gave a sheepish shrug.  

The rest of the auction went by like a blur. All Hana could think of was how she had just spent – according to her phone - 16,039,500 won on a statue she had no place for.  

Thinking on a similar topic, Satya asked her as the auction was wrapping up, “So what are you planning to do with that massive statue?” 

“I don’t know,” Hana replied. “Maybe I’ll put her up as a bodyguard when I do meet and greets.” She started fishing through her pink bunny backpack for her bright pink wallet. “Do you think they accept debit cards?” 

“Er, I would assume most of these paintings are paid for by cash or check...”  

“Well, if they have a problem with it they can talk to my agent.” 

Satya watched with visible dismay as Hana joined the crowd of buyers filing out to finalize their wins. 

* * *

 

It was certainly a conversation starter, if nothing else. Hana managed to scare the crap out of Lena with it when she’d invited the other woman inside to take a look. “Christ!” Lena recoiled from the giant woman. “Why the heck would you want that starin’ at ya all night?” 

“I don’t know. I think she’s cool. And she holds my hats.” To demonstrate Hana propped her bunny logo snapback on top of the knight’s helmet.  

“So ya paid fifteen thousand dollars for a big scary hat rack.” 

“She’s not  _just_ a hat rack. I can also use her to barricade my door, scare off intruders, and model my new merchandise.” She put a tiny figure of her MEKA on top of the woman’s shield.  

“I still think it’s creepy.” Lena shuddered. “Looks  _way_ too real. I dunno how they managed to make stone look that much like a real person, but it’s freaky as all hell.” 

“Hey, don’t be rude!” Hana removed the statue’s hat and figure and loudly whispered to it,  _“_ _She doesn’t mean it.”_  

Admittedly, when she was alone with the statue it  _was_ a little creepy. Its eyes just seemed so human. When it was time for her to go to sleep Hana turned it so that it was facing the door of her room instead of her bed. 

“Goodnight, impulse buy,” she said as she curled up in the moonlight streaming through her window. 

Her sleep, as usual, was plagued by nightmares. She dreamed of waking up to find that without her there to protect it, Busan had been destroyed overnight. She dreamed her usual dream of drowning in ice-cold water, her body too tired and wounded to pull itself to the surface. She tried to scream, but couldn’t - but she tried, oh how she tried. In fact, with all her might, she screamed so hard at one point that she woke herself up.  

Quickly covering her mouth, Hana glanced about to make sure she hadn’t alerted anyone else at the base. She could hear a faint noise somewhere by the door.  _Great. Someone’s_ _gonna_ _come running in and think I’m dying, and I’ll have to tell them I’m just a big baby having nightmares..._  

The sound grew louder. It sounded like someone was cracking something open. Hana flicked on her light. What she saw startled her awake the rest of the way. 

The statue’s stone exterior was falling off in chunks. “What the hell??” Hana leapt out of bed to go inspect it. To her shock, beneath the missing stone patches...appeared to be human skin. “Oh, God!” Hana shrieked. “There’s a body in here!” 

Cracks ran up the statue, breaking the stone off more and more. Hana’s first instinct was to run away, but she was too terrified, and also a bit morbidly curious to find out what was lurking underneath the statue’s rocky shell. So she backed herself up against the door, wordless, and simply watched as the stone gave way to the flesh underneath. 

With one mighty  _crack_  the petrified woman gasped and threw her head back to gulp in a second lungful of air. She stumbled backward, dropping her mace and shield to the floor with a  _clang_ , and crashed up against Hana’s desk, toppling all of her Gundams and other figures.  

“Oh my God.” Hana leaned forward in spite of herself. “You’re  _alive?!”_  

Stiffly the knight bent down and grabbed up her weapon. “Miss, I heard screaming.” She picked up her shield next, and opened it in front of Hana. “I’ll get you to safety!” 

“You-you’re-you-” Hana pointed a finger limply at the knight. “You were...a statue. Agh!” The woman scooped her up and carried her bridal-style over to the door. Once reaching it she searched for a knob, and of course did not find one. 

“What...kind of door is this?” The woman – more of a girl, Hana was quickly realizing – spoke with an accent Hana had never heard. The door was locked with a thumbprint scanner on both sides. Hana was usually paranoid about security, but apparently allowed a giant, living woman to slip right past her defenses. 

The girl’s arms were big and beefy – holding Hana in them didn’t even seem to slow her down. Hana tried to make sense of the bizarre new situation long enough to figure out what on earth was going on. “Um...” She tried to keep herself pushed away from the girl’s armored chest, though it was difficult to do so while being held by her. “Would you mind explaining to me how you’re a statue that just came to life?” 

The girl blinked down at her in visible confusion. She should have known those eyes were human, with all the life in the world in them. “A statue? What are you talking about?” 

“You were stone! You were a stone statue that I won at an art auction because I thought you were really cool and also because I, uh, hate losing. And I brought you back to the Overwatch base, and I went to sleep, and then suddenly you were cracking and all the stone was falling off and you had human skin underneath!” 

The girl stared at her for a long time. “I’m sorry, miss,” she eventually said, “but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just heard screaming, and suddenly I was awake. I’m a knight. It’s my sworn duty to protect anyone in danger.” 

“My screaming...’woke you up’...?” Hana was still baffled by the entire situation. “I was having a nightmare. I get them a lot.” 

The girl moved over to Hana’s bed, and set her gently down upon it. “Is there something causing the nightmares? Anything I can do?” 

“No. No, it’s fine.” Hana sat up and studied the girl’s face. Despite her elaborate metal armor, hulking size and thick muscles, her face, especially those deep brown eyes of hers, showed nothing but warmth and compassion. “...Who are you, anyway?” Hana asked her. Even as she spoke, she still stared into the girl’s kind eyes. 

The girl pulled back just enough to settle on one knee and bow to her. “My name is Brigitte Lindholm,” she declared. “Shield Maiden of Gothenburg, Squire of Reinhardt Wilhelm, Protector of the Innocent and Lover of Cats.”  

Hana tilted her head. “...Cats?” 

The girl, Brigitte, raised her chin just enough to reveal her smile. “I like to add that so it doesn’t all sound so serious.” 

“But like, who  _are_  you?” Hana stood up, noting how the girl remained on one knee before her. “Where did you come from? Why were you being sold at a snobby art auction?” 

“Oh. Well, uh, I have no idea why I was being sold at an art auction. I don’t really remember anything besides my name and title. But you managed to free me from stone, so that must mean something.” She shrugged her broad shoulders. “Right?” 

“Uhh. I guess?” She held a hand out to the knight. “You can get up, you know.” 

The girl got to her feet without Hana’s assistance. Even as a human she still towered over Hana, though Hana did not find herself intimidated by her. “All this time I’ve apparently been trapped in stone,” she said, “and it was you who finally freed me. So...” 

She took Hana’s hand in her own gloved one and took another half-bow before her. “Let me be your personal guard. I’ll protect you from whatever is bringing you nightmares.” 

“Uhhh?” Hana let Brigitte maintain a gentle hold on her hand, but was uncertain how to react. “I don’t really need a personal...” She hesitated.  _No way. I’m not enlisting some statue-turned-pretty-girl to be my bodyguard. What the heck is going on right now??_  “...No. You’re, uh, free now. You can do what you want.” 

“But I want to serve you.” The girl’s tone was unwavering. “You gave me this freedom. This is what I’m choosing to do with it.” 

At that point there was nothing that could make the situation before Hana any stranger than it already was. She had no idea what to do. “...I think I need to talk to someone,” she mumbled. As she was heading for the door Brigitte followed right behind her. “I guess you can come if you want?” 

“Of course.” With her mace in one hand and her shield in the other, Brigitte stayed just behind Hana. “Oh, and, what’s your name by the way? I’ll need to know who I’m answering to.” 

Hana paused and turned to glance back at her. “Hana,” she hesitantly replied. “Hana Song.” 

“Oh, that’s a beautiful name! I’m happy to serve you, Miss Song.” 

She followed like a giant puppy as Hana made her way to the quarters of her only fellow art enthusiast.  


	2. In Your House, I Long To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta say, I did not expect such a big reception to this fic, lol! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! I really just wrote this as a self-indulgence for an idea I'd been sitting on since the spring, I'm pleasantly surprised at how many people are enjoying it so far!

Satya was always up late tinkering and planning. As expected, she answered the door immediately when Hana knocked upon it.

“Hana?” She squinted in the low light. “What is the matter–"

Her eyes bulged at the hulking figure that appeared behind Hana.

“Hey, Satya.” Hana plastered a smile on her face. “This is, um, Brigitte. I won her at the auction, remember?”

“You...this is...what?” In her shock Satya’s usual formality was forgotten. “The _statue_ you won?”

“Miss Song freed me from stone.” Brigitte did a half-bow to Satya as well. “So I’m at her service now.”

Satya just gaped at her. Brigitte kept her head bowed, though after a prolonged silence she lifted her chin enough to search Satya’s face a bit.

“Yeah...” Hana massaged the back of her neck. “So, uh, you’re the art expert here. Ever heard of a statue turning into a giant living lady?”

“I...no. I cannot say I have.” She flinched when Brigitte attempted to take her hand like she’d done Hana’s. Thankfully Brigitte took the hint and backed off. “Come inside, you two. I must know more about this.”

Brigitte ducked her way inside just after Hana. She remained at attention behind her even once they were inside, as if she were standing guard. _I guess she kind of is._

“So you are alive?” Satya came around to study Brigitte. She prodded her forearm and examined the portion of her face exposed under her helmet.

“I believe so, ma’am.” Brigitte stood tall and stared straight ahead.

“Is it legal for me to have bought a person?” Hana took that time to look her over as well. She was certainly attractive, Hana had to admit. Her soft face contrasted her chiseled muscles, turning what might have otherwise been a frightening appearance into an approachable one. She came across not as scary, but as protective. Caring.

“Well, technically you did not buy a person. You could not have known the statue would transform into a seemingly-living creature.” Satya scratched her chin, then said, “Have you taken her to Dr. Ziegler?”

“No. This kind of just happened.”

“Then that’s what I would recommend. This is wildly out of my jurisdiction as an art enthusiast – though I am flattered you assumed I would have a solution to such an unusual problem.”

“I don’t want to wake up the whole base over this. I don’t even know if I’m gonna get arrested for buying a human being!”

“I wouldn’t allow that.” Brigitte lifted her mace defensively. Hana merely sighed in response.

“Then you should inform her first thing in the morning. I would not wait on this, Hana. And I myself am extremely curious how something like this could happen.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell her in the morning.” She headed back toward the door. Brigitte followed like her shadow. “Don’t tell anyone until I do.”

“I sincerely doubt anyone would believe me,” Satya replied.

Hana could hardly believe it herself. Part of her was still convinced that at any moment she was going to wake up and be staring at the creepily-lifelike statue holding her hats and figurines. But in her heart she knew this was real. Even hyped up on energy drinks after a gaming marathon she never had dreams as weird as this.

As soon as they were back out in the dark hallway Brigitte tapped Hana lightly on the shoulder. “What?” Hana’s lack of sleep combined with her general confusion about the current situation twisted her reply a lot more negatively than she had intended it.

The other girl’s heavy footsteps paused, and only then did Hana realize how close behind her Brigitte had been. When she turned to her, Hana found Brigitte staring down at the floor with a furrowed brow.

“I didn’t want to cause you any trouble,” she said. “If you don’t need me here then that’s okay. I can find somewhere else to go.”

Her shadow completely consumed Hana – it was probably for the best, so Brigitte couldn’t see the mixed feelings visible on Hana’s face. “I mean...” Hana frowned. “I really don’t have any need for a personal knight. I already have bodyguards whenever I go out somewhere. And the Overwatch base is guarded by a really advanced security system.”

The girl’s shoulders lowered, but she remained stoic. “I understand, Miss Song. I’ll find somewhere else to–”

Suddenly a door at the end of the hallway slid open. Hana and Brigitte both stopped.

The door remained open for a few seconds, then quietly slid shut again. No one appeared to come in or go out.

“Huh.” Hana tilted her head. “Wonder if the door is malfunctioning–”

Brigitte charged forward shield-first. To Hana’s shock, the knight struck something. A flash of purple light went tumbling backwards across the floor.

“Argh!” The light took the form of a woman. She was on her feet in seconds, but not before Hana got a good look at her. Her long black hair was shaved on one side of her head, and looked rather disheveled. She was dressed in nothing but an oversized Willie Nelson t-shirt and purple sleep shorts. She didn’t even have shoes on.

“Uh...?” Hana approached her uncertainly, Brigitte at her side. Before they could ask her anything, though, the woman quickly fished some sort of blinking device out of the pocket of her shorts and pressed a button in its center. In a burst of light, she disappeared.

“What the heck?” Hana examined the door. A small placard next to it, like all the other doors, held the call sign of its current occupant. “This is McCree’s room.”

“Who was that woman?” Brigitte had her mace at the ready.

“No idea.” Hana turned to her. “How did you know she was there?”

“I heard her footsteps.”

Hana bit her lip. “So there are invisible people sneaking around the base? That’s not good.”

Brigitte clanked the head of her mace against the ground. “I can inspect this place before I leave. I’ll make sure it’s safe.”

“Um, actually...” Women sneaking out of McCree’s room wasn’t that unusual. It didn’t scare her all that much. But the more she thought over the idea of this incredible girl just wandering off, never to be seen by Hana again, the more she began to realize how much she didn’t want that to happen.

Damn her hormones influencing her rational decisions.

Hana settled a hand on Brigitte’s arm. A faint blush pinkened the knight’s cheeks at the gesture. “Maybe you should just stay. After all, the new Overwatch doesn’t have too many members yet. We could use you.”

So close to her, Hana noticed some small details she hadn’t before. Brigitte’s skin had a muted, earthy scent to it, like mud after rain, and her deep brown eyes had tiny glittering flecks, like precious stones, unlike any human’s Hana had ever seen.

“Are you sure?” Those beautiful eyes were fixed solely on her. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Just stay. At least for now.”

“If you’re sure, Miss Song.” Despite her neutral tone, the girl lit up at Hana’s decree. She let Hana slide her hand down into Brigitte’s palm, and Hana pulled her toward her bedroom.

“I’m sure. We’ll get this figured out in the morning.”

* * *

 

Of course, with her self-proclaimed knight protector just staring down at her it was impossible for Hana to sleep. Originally she had decided to stand with her back to Hana, eyes trained on the door for any signs of intrusion. But Hana could repeatedly sense her gaze straying to glance down at the girl she was protecting.

“I can’t sleep with you staring at me,” Hana murmured. Though her eyes were squeezed shut, she was not growing any more tired.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

There came a tremendous _clang_ as Brigitte dropped to one armored knee at the foot of Hana’s bed, and remained at a kneel instead. Hana rolled her eyes, though she was not truly irritated. At least after that Brigitte wasn’t staring at her.

In the darkness, everything was silent save for Hana’s restless breaths and the occasional light scraping of Brigitte’s armor as she shifted position ever so slightly. “...Are you really okay with just kneeling on the floor all night?” Hana eventually asked her.

“Of course, Miss Song. Don’t worry for me.”

Despite the weirdness, Hana was tired enough to fall asleep for a short while. She had nightmares as usual, though she mustn’t have been screaming, for she was not woken by her self-appointed guard. She actually managed to sleep through the rest of the night – a solid few hours – a rarity for her.

When she woke the next morning Hana found Brigitte slumped against the foot of Hana’s bed. Her broad shoulders rose and fell with gentle slumbering breaths. _Huh. Guess she needs to sleep, too._

She inched her blanket off as quietly as possible. The cold air outside the warm fabric rushed her bare legs and arms. She always left the air conditioning on – that way she could smother herself in protective blankets and never get hot. A quick peek out the blinds told her the sun was just thinking of coming up. She had an entire day ahead of her and, surprisingly, nothing on the agenda. She had planned a longer trip to India, until she and Satya had ended up saddled with a giant, fragile statue.

Her bare feet made little noise on the fluffy pink area rug by her bed. As she crept by Brigitte, Hana gave pause just long enough to look her over again. They appeared to be roughly the same age, but Brigitte gave off an aura of being from another time period. Another world, even. It was an odd partnership, the gamer mech pilot on the cutting edge of technology and a girl in a suit of armor using a mace and shield to defend herself.

As she studied the girl’s muscular form and sizable hands, an irreverent thought crossed Hana’s mind. _I bet she could give the most awesome hugs._

Where did she come from? How could she not remember something that turned her to stone? Unless it was hundreds, or even thousands of years ago, and her memory eroded away in all those years she was stuck like that...

What a horrible thought.

She attempted to make it to the bathroom attached to her quarters undetected, but the second her feet touched the hard floor Brigitte jerked awake. “Miss Song!” She was on her feet in a millisecond, and practically tackled Hana before realizing there wasn’t an intruder. “Oh, you _are_ Miss Song.” With a chuckle she shyly tucked a piece of hair back into her helmet. “Sorry. I’m a little rusty.”

“It’s okay.” Hana wandered over to the bathroom. “I was just about to...shower...” Her small talk trailed off, and she cleared her throat. Brigitte’s gaze snapped back up to meet hers.

“I’m so sorry.” She stumbled over her apology. “That’s - I just haven’t seen you in the light before. Um, but it’s not honorable of me to stare. It won’t happen again, Miss Song.” She held one arm in front of her stomach and bowed over it.

Hana let her sweat it for a long minute. Then she smirked. “It’s fine. Everyone does it.”

“Well, I can see why.” She caught herself and punctuated her words with a small, awkward cough. “I mean, I said that’s unknightly of me, and it is. So I won’t say anything else.”

The thought of this giant woman finding her attractive was a little bit intimidating, but not as intimidating as it probably should have been. The memory of those strong arms holding her with ease was enough to bring a blush to Hana’s cheeks.

“So...I’m gonna shower.” She stepped through the doorway into the bathroom. “You can just, uh...do whatever, I guess.”

“I’ll guard the door.”

“Okay.”

The knight straightened her spine and positioned herself against the bedroom door. With her mace clutched in both hands she lifted her chin and assumed a pose much like a suit of armor one might see in a museum.

Hana closed the bathroom door. Once inside she slid partway down the door’s surface and exhaled. _What have I gotten myself into here?_

Those thoughts continued while she stepped out of her sleeping clothes and into the warm shower water. _I wonder what would have happened if one of those old guys had won Brigitte._ Would she have woken up for them? Or would she only come alive for a woman?

And what was she supposed to tell the others at the base? What about MEKA? Brigitte had no idea Hana was a soldier. She surely wasn’t going to react well to watching Hana jump in a giant pink metal death trap and go challenge a homicidal omnic the size of a skyscraper. Granted, the _gwishin_ hadn’t attacked in a long time, but still...

Just thinking of that situation shot down her good mood. She rested against the wall of the shower and drew in a slow breath. _Don’t think about that. Focus on the right now._

She hated showering for that very reason – there were no distractions to keep her thoughts off of past trauma. She tried to distract herself by humming, but it wasn’t enough to keep her mind from replaying its usual montage of all the wonderful times she’d seen civilians die in front of her.

She rushed through the shower as fast as humanly possible. In under ten minutes she was stepping out onto her ridiculously-fluffy bath mat, letting it soak up all the hot water dripping off her. As she toweled off her long, thick hair she tried her best to collect her thoughts. _Focus on the now. Focus on the now._

She couldn’t bring herself to dress in anything other than a pair of comfy gray yoga pants and her old _World of Warcraft: Cataclysm_ t-shirt. It was going to be one of those days.

Brigitte was still stationed at the door when Hana emerged from the steamy bathroom. “Any intruders?” Hana asked. Apparently unaware she was joking, Brigitte gave a firm shake of the head.

“Nothing has come through here, or attempted to. Your quarters are secure.”

“Thanks.” She noticed Brigitte was making an active effort not to look at her. Instead she kept her chin high, gaze fixed on the far window. Hana stopped in front of her. Still Brigitte’s gaze did not waver.

“Are you gonna wear that armor 24/7?”

At the question Brigitte finally lowered her eyes to meet Hana’s stare. “...Do you not want me in my armor?”

She _was_ curious to see what the girl looked like beneath her gigantic metal shell. For all she knew the actual Brigitte could be smaller than her. “Well, I’m heading down to grab breakfast, and I didn’t want to call too much attention to you yet...”

“Oh. You want me to be covert.” She nodded to herself. “That makes perfect sense. I’ll remove my armor.”

Hana watched as Brigitte removed her helmet and shook out her long auburn hair. It settled around her gentle face in waves, clearly matted down by eons crushed into a helmet, but pretty nonetheless. She tucked a stray lock behind one ear and showed Hana a tiny smile. Hana tried to mimic her nonchalance. She failed terribly.

As Brigitte stripped off her armor piece by piece Hana began to realize that her size was no illusion. She really was _that_ massive. “Oh man”–Brigitte sighed contentedly as the impossibly-heavy armor hit the floor hard enough for Hana to feel the impact a meter away–“It feels so nice having all that off!”

It was Hana’s turn to stare then. Without armor Brigitte wore nothing but a black crop top and baggy cargo pants. The top revealed not only her muscular arms, but also her sculpted abs. She was like one of those models you’d see on the cover of a weightlifting magazine. _Oh no._ Hana’s face heated right up. _She’s even hotter than I thought._

On the highest part of her left shoulder there was a thick black gear tattooed. It looked dimly familiar, though Hana could not pinpoint where she had seen it before.

The girl’s muscles rippled beneath the surface of her skin as she stretched. When she bent down to pick up her discarded armor Hana’s eyes followed her – she didn’t pull them away until Brigitte turned back around.

“So,” the other girl asked, innocuous as ever, “you want me to accompany you to breakfast?”

“B...breakfast. Yeah.” Even without her armor on Brigitte still positively dwarfed Hana. The girl could probably pick her up and carry her around with one hand. “Do you...eat...?”

Brigitte tapped her chin. “I can’t remember if I’ve ever eaten before. I’d love to try it, though.”

“So let’s go, then!” As usual, Hana masked her flustered emotions behind her cocky D.Va persona. She grabbed Brigitte by the arm and dragged her out the door.

* * *

 

The Overwatch base’s cafeteria was small, but it had a cozy atmosphere to it. At all times of the day it hosted a buzz of chatter as agents and base employees alike grabbed a quick bite and had their breaks together. Over that buzz there could always be heard a few reliable sounds: the clinking of trays and silverware, the beeping of ovens and microwaves, the popping of crumb-filled old toasters, and the line cooks calling out orders for hot meals. There was also a permeating smell of burned food that clung to one’s clothing long after leaving, so that you could always tell who had just been eating in the dining hall.

Waking up so early meant they beat the breakfast rush, so it was easy to find a table. Hana draped her MEKA hoodie over the back of a chair, the universal claiming sign for tables, then grabbed two trays, still damp from being wiped down in the kitchen, and made her way over to the food. Brigitte followed close behind as always, but she was eyeing all the food the other agents were eating.

“So what looks good to you?” Hana asked as Brigitte accompanied her in grabbing a tray.

Brigitte drifted over to the self-serve buffet of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and bagels. “Am I allowed to take this?”

“Of course!” Hana handed her a tray and a worn metal fork. “Dig in!” Hana herself plucked a bagel from the warmer and grabbed a tiny cup of fat-free cream cheese to spread on it. After a moment’s consideration she also spooned out a small scoop of eggs. _Hope she doesn’t judge me for not eating healthy or whatever._ With a body like that, she must have been one of those health nuts before she was turned to stone.

Upon returning her attention to her knight, Hana was floored to find the girl’s tray was absolutely overflowing with food. It was enough to feed five people, easy. “Wow.” Hana tried to keep her surprise to herself, lest she offend the girl, but she couldn’t help reacting to it.

“Do they serve beer here?” Brigitte was on to the next table, heaping waffles on her already-full plate.

Hana watched her go at it. “Beer?”

“Oh! They do!” In unsurprising Overwatch fashion there was, in fact, a keg sitting at the far end of the counter. Brigitte grabbed the biggest mug they offered and filled it to the brim. Then she offered Hana a mug. Hana politely declined.

The tray hit the table with audible weight when Brigitte sat down. The table was far too low for the giant girl, and it looked like she was sitting at a kids’ table. Hana didn’t want to admit she had trouble getting up in the higher chairs, and Brigitte seemed okay with the setup, so Hana did not offer to relocate.

“Mmm!” Brigitte took a big bite of her eggs. “Food is delicious!” Immediately after speaking with her full mouth she lifted her hand to it and grinned sheepishly.

Hana took a small bite of her bagel. _Guess I had nothing to worry about with her judging me._ Her own hunger was all but forgotten as she watched her bizarre new friend wolf down no less than the entire tray of food and wash it down with the entire mug of beer. “Wow!” She slammed her mug down with too much strength for the rickety table. Everyone turned at the noise. Brigitte seemed hardly to notice. “I’ve really been missing out!” Her behavior would have been embarrassing if they’d been anywhere else. Thankfully within the Overwatch base she pretty much blended right in.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Miss Song.” Brigitte gave a cordial nod in Hana’s direction. “I’ll try not to eat _all_ your food.”

“Call me Hana.” Hana shook her head. “You’re not, like, my servant.”

Brigitte cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure? A knight calling the lady she’s protecting by her first name is kind of...I don’t know. Intimate.”

“Everybody here calls me Hana. There’s nothing intimate about it.”

Still Brigitte seemed hesitant. “What about ‘Lady Hana’, at least?”

“If you call me that, I won’t answer to it.”

“Lady Hana?”

Hana took a sip of orange juice and examined her fingernails.

“...Hana?”

At that Hana smiled. “Yes?” When she trained her eyes back on Brigitte she realized the girl’s whole face was flushed. “Oh my God, are you really that flustered about calling me by my first name?”

Brigitte concentrated very hard on her empty tray. Hana couldn’t help but grin at the reaction. _Guess she’s not so tough when it comes to talking to girls._ The reaction was oddly cute.  Hana couldn’t resist toying with her just a little more.

Twirling a lock of hair around one finger, Hana batted her lashes at the bashful knight. “You know,” she said, “the reason I bought your statue in the first place was because I thought you were cute.”

Brigitte coughed abruptly. “Oh, uh, th-thank you, Miss – Hana. I think you’re, uh...”

“Hana?”

Satya’s voice pulled the two girls out of their secluded conversation. Hana hadn’t even realized how much they’d been tuning out the rest of the dining hall until she realized Satya had sat down right beside them with her usual pungent black coffee in hand. “Oh, hey Satya.” She quickly uncoiled her hair from her fingers and assumed a more neutral pose. “Brigitte wanted some breakfast.”

“You have not brought her to Dr. Ziegler yet?”

“I will after breakfast.”

“Are you not brimming with curiosity, as I am?”

She should have been. By all accounts Hana should have been dying to find out if the creature she’d purchased as a work of art was truly alive and organic and able to function like a normal human being. But some other part of her didn’t want to know. What if she _wasn’t_ really alive? In a short few hours Hana had already come to enjoy the other girl’s company, strange as it was. What if Dr. Ziegler studied her and found out this animation was only temporary? She found she would almost rather not know.

“Your friend is right,” Brigitte spoke up. “I should probably get checked out before we do anything else.”

Hana’s gaze lowered to the table between them. “You’re right. I guess we’ll go see Dr. Ziegler, then.”

Brigitte smiled warmly as they got up from the table. Hana could not meet her gaze.

* * *

 

Brigitte’s massive body could barely fit on the examination table. Even with the table as low as it could go Dr. Ziegler had trouble reaching her to examine her eyes and ears, and having it so low meant her knees were up to her chest when her feet were on the floor. “Sorry,” Brigitte murmured as she leaned down as low as possible to try to meet Dr. Ziegler halfway. “I didn’t realize most people were so small.”

“Can you even examine her like this?” Hana sat cross-legged in the single chair in the corner of the exam room. She watched Dr. Ziegler stand up on her toes to scan Brigitte’s forehead for her temperature.

“Of course!” As usual Angela was unfazed by her odd clientele. “I used to examine Reinhardt the same way.”

“Reinhardt?” Brigitte almost knocked Dr. Ziegler over when she perked up. “That’s my master’s name!”

“Oh yeah, you did say that.” In the chaos of watching a statue come to life Hana had completely skipped over her mention of the former Overwatch member. “But how would you know Reinhardt? _I_ don’t even know him.”

“Your vitals are all reading in the quite normal ranges, Brigitte.” Dr. Ziegler tapped something into her computer. “It would appear you are virtually indistinguishable from any other human. Well...” With a smile she cast a pointed look up Brigitte’s colossal form. “But at least we’d already invested in that extended height scale for the base!”

“So she’s just...human? Completely?”

“Well, it would take more extensive testing to confirm that, but...”

“Could we do that?” Brigitte asked.

“Of course. I’m interested myself in seeing your readings. Of all the strange origin stories I’ve heard, a healthy, fully-functioning human emerging from a state of total petrification has to be one of the most bizarre – and the most interesting.”

“Why do you think she doesn’t remember anything?” Hana said.

“I really can’t say. Oh, that reminds me, I’d like to obtain as complete a record as I can for what you _do_ remember. Do you recall your last name?”

“Of course.” Brigitte nodded. “It’s Lindholm.”

Dr. Ziegler ceased her tapping on her keyboard. “...Lindholm?” Her eyes flicked to the gear tattooed on Brigitte’s shoulder. “You’re not...related to Torbjörn?”

“That’s my father’s name!”

By then Dr. Ziegler’s mouth was agape. “Torbjörn never mentioned a daughter your age. Are we talking about the same man – grumpy blond engineer? A bit on the, er, short side?”

“To be honest, I don’t even really remember him.” Brigitte massaged the back of her neck. “Just his name.”

“Well, he was always a stubborn one. He’s staying away from this Overwatch reformation. But I know he still resides on the outskirts of Gothenburg. Perhaps he could help fill in the gaps in your memory?”

“I’d love to meet up with him! And what about Reinhardt? Is he around?”

Dr. Ziegler’s expression changed. “No one has heard from Reinhardt in a long time,” she said. Her voice was noticeably quieter then.

“Oh.”

Hana wasn’t familiar with either of the men they spoke of in any way other than name. She’d heard of them, of course – it was impossible to be a soldier and not be at least conceptually familiar with the members of the fabled Overwatch. But she had never met either of them.

“Where are we right now?” Brigitte turned to Hana to ask.

“Gibraltar,” Hana replied.

“How far is that from Sweden?”

“Pretty far.”

“Could we take a horse?”

“A horse?” Hana’s first instinct was to laugh, but she quickly realized Brigitte’s question was genuine. “Um, no. We’d probably have to fly there.” She had just taken time off to travel to India. Every trip that took her away from her job was a risk – anything could happen while she wasn’t around to protect the civilians who needed her. But could she really send this naïve girl who thought people still traveled on horseback on an international trip by herself? “Do you want to go?”

Brigitte opened her mouth, then slowly closed it again. After a few moments of deliberation, she said, “...No. I said I would serve you. I’m not going to make you travel to some faraway land for my sake.”

Dr. Ziegler was still taking notes; on what, Hana had no idea. “I’m sorry. I’d say yes if I didn’t have thousands of people to protect. I never know what’s going to leap out of the ocean from one day to the next.”

Brigitte tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a soldier in the South Korean armed forces. I pilot a mech suit with a small team of other soldiers, and we defend Korea whenever this giant, homicidal robot rises up from the East China Sea and starts attacking us. It hasn’t shown up in a long time, but when it does I have to take off for Busan right away. We don’t get a whole lot of warning when it’s coming.”

Brigitte just stared at her. “You’re a...soldier...?”

“Uh-huh.” Hana scrunched up her face. “Wait a minute. Why are you so surprised by that? You think I don’t look like I could be in the army?”

“N-no!” Brigitte threw her hands up defensively. “I don’t doubt that at all, actually. You’re in really good shape.” The second the words were out she immediately backpedaled. “I mean, not that I’ve been staring – noticing, I mean. I haven’t...noticed. Really.”

Dr. Ziegler cleared her throat awkwardly. “So would you like me to run further testing? The results may take a bit, but...”

“Sure!” The change of subject was welcomed by both Hana and Brigitte. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

While Angela was taking Brigitte’s blood and skin samples and whatever else she was collecting while she was poking and prodding the girl, Hana sat quietly observing the scenario. For whatever she may have started as, this girl was real now. She was a part of Hana’s life now.

A trip all the way to Sweden to hunt down a man Hana had only heard of?

Hana stared at the girl before her, who chuckled as Dr. Ziegler put a tiny, colorful bandage on the needle-poked spot on her giant arm.

_She’s basically brand new to this world._ The thought accompanied the sight of Brigitte giving Dr. Ziegler a handshake strong enough to jerk the doctor’s entire arm, then quickly apologizing for the strength of the gesture. _I’d want to meet my parent, too._

“Okay.” Hana got up out of the chair. “We’ll go. We’ll find Torbjörn.”

Brigitte turned to her. “Oh, no, Miss Song. We don’t need to. I don’t remember him, anyway – it's much more important that we stay here so you can be ready if they call you to action.”

“Oh, I’ll be ready no matter what. It doesn’t matter where in the world I am. I can get the call from anywhere.”

Brigitte bent her knees just enough to be down at Hana’s level. Usually when people did that Hana felt like they were talking down to her, but in Brigitte’s case it felt more like a gesture of respect than of patronization. “...You’d be okay with going? Really?”

Standing up as straight as she could, Hana gave a firm nod.

The gem-like sparkles in Brigitte’s eyes dazzled Hana. “Well okay then! We’ll undertake this quest.”

“It would be nice to hear from him again,” Dr. Ziegler said. “For all his...quirks, he is quite the incredible engineer. And a good man.”

“I wish I could remember him.” Brigitte picked her mace up from its position leaning against the exam table. “Or my mother, for that matter.”

“That’s what the trip will be for.”

Suddenly her hand was taken into Brigitte’s. The girl planted a light kiss on the back of it as she fell again to one knee. “I appreciate this opportunity, my lady. I’m indebted to you yet again.”

“No, no you’re not.” Hana shielded her red face behind her free hand. “Get up, you’re embarrassing me!”

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She was back on her feet in a second. “I’m going to work on my knightliness. I promise.”

“Well you’ll have plenty of time to do that.” With a flip of her hair Hana strutted past her. “Come on, let’s get ready to go!”

“Now?” Brigitte was already hurrying after her.

“Yep. Thanks Dr. Ziegler!”

Dr. Ziegler gave them a hesitant wave as they left her office.


	3. The Hammer of Hephaestus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And he bade famous Hephaestus make haste and mix earth with water and to put in it the voice and strength of human kind, and fashion a sweet, lovely maiden-shape, like to the immortal goddesses in face; and Athene to teach her needlework and the weaving of the varied web; and golden Aphrodite to shed grace upon her head and cruel longing and cares that weary the limbs." (Hesiod, Works and Days, ll. 60-68)

_The wail of the disaster siren drowned out all the familiar noise of the city. Tokki lay smoldering in a pile of rubble a stretch away – her beloved MEKA would be of no use to her then. And as it was useless to her, so was it to the dozens of wounded civilians she could no longer carry to safety. The closest to her was a little boy who cried out from under an overturned car. She could see his lower half was crushed._

_Hana struggled on her hands and knees to reach out to him, but she could not move. She was too weak._

_The only thing loud enough to be heard over the disaster siren was the thrumming, bass-laden growl generated by the colossal omnic. It was as loud as a jet engine, and at close range it disoriented any human near it. Hana clambered to her feet, but stumbled just as quickly. Her cheek hit the broken pavement hard enough to fill her mouth with the taste of blood. Her eyes rolled upward to behold the monstrosity that loomed over her. Its metal mandibles were still chewing on the remains of La Princesse Sereine. Jae-eun was nowhere to be found._

_Every ounce of her wanted to scream. To cry. She physically bit her tongue to refrain from doing so. The people of Korea couldn’t know she was out of options. She had to save them. Had to be their ray of hope._

_The gwishin emitted another blast of a distorted, digitized roar. It opened its mandibles then, and La Princesse dropped from it. As it crashed to the ground, a pool of blood began to seep from the cracked cockpit. A body was crushed against the broken glass._

_Hana’s fingers clenched as her throat began to close. A strangled cry tore from it. She couldn’t fight it anymore – the first cry only brought more. She collapsed on her side like a wounded animal, and wailed with all the guttural anguish she’d been holding within._

_As she cried, the gwishin turned to her. Its soulless red ocelli revealed nothing – of course, since it was not a living being. It felt no emotion. No amount of omnic destruction would ever faze it like death fazed humans. How could they ever hope to win against something so–_

Suddenly her hands were enveloped in warmth. An unseen force lifted them and pulled her up off the ground. Hana blinked a few times. A hazy figure materialized in front of her, blocking the horrors that lay in the distance. As her vision came into focus Hana began to recognize the shape.

“Hana?” Brigitte’s voice was thick with concern. “You’re crying again. Is there something I can do to help?”

Upon coming to her senses, Hana realized they were on the private Overwatch plane taking them to Gothenburg. Hana was no longer in her seat, but had seemingly slipped to the floor, perhaps from thrashing in her sleep. It would not be the first time. Brigitte was holding both of her hands in her own.

“Oh...it was another nightmare.” Hana breathed a sigh of relief. With the frequency she had them, she should have been able to discriminate by now. Yet they always managed to trap her within them, like the ice water she so often dreamed of drowning in.

Unlike her dreams, Brigitte’s hands were warm and inviting. Hana allowed the knight to help her to her feet. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me.” Brigitte held on to her a bit longer than what was probably necessary. Hana closed her eyes for a moment – she was so unused to physical contact these days. Everywhere she went it was bodyguards and barriers keeping her away from everyone. It was nice to feel the touch of someone who wasn’t just trying to grab her because she was famous.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Brigitte’s attention was all on her. Even though she had never seen the world from this altitude, or presumably ever even been on a plane before, nothing around Brigitte pulled her from her self-appointed duty guarding Hana. “I wish I could defend you in your dreams...”

“I’m fine. Nightmares can’t kill you.”

“No, but...”

“So stop worrying about me so much. I’ll be fine.”

Brigitte frowned, but ultimately acquiesced. “I’ll try, Miss Song.”

“Hana.”

“...Hana.”

* * *

 

The countryside of Sweden was gorgeously wild. Hana could scarcely believe there were still places in the world untouched by human contamination, yet here it was, full of greenery and wilderness.

It was certainly the kind of place you’d settle into if you were trying to hide from the world.

“It’s so beautiful here!” The second they disembarked from the small Overwatch plane Brigitte dropped to her knees and pushed her fingers into the overgrown grass. “This feels so familiar. I feel like I’ve been here before.”

A grasshopper sprang up and landed on Hana’s leg. With a gentle finger Hana scooped it off of her. It clung to her a moment before leaping back into the meadow.

“Oh!”

She looked up at Brigitte’s exclamation. A butterfly had landed on her forehead, and was fluttering its wings without fear. Brigitte held perfectly still, save for her lips, which curved into a tiny smile. “Hello there.”

The butterfly took off after a few seconds, but the smile on Brigitte’s face lingered. Hana took her by the arm and began to lead her toward the only implication that civilization had touched this place – an old wooden house in the far distance.

If one didn’t know better, one might have thought the house abandoned. Its yard was untended, giving free roam to the plants, flowers and insects that populated it. The only sign it was lived in was the cleared path leading to the front door.

They were navigating that path when they heard something rustle in the backyard. Immediately Brigitte was on guard – she opened her shield and stepped in front of Hana. But whatever was rustling didn’t seem concerned with them. It just kept making noise.

Brigitte settled her hands on Hana’s shoulders. A little jolt shot through Hana’s body at the contact. “Stay back,” Brigitte whispered, then nudged Hana a step backward. “I’ll check it out.”

Hana tried to focus on the situation at hand rather than on the fluttering of her heart at the other girl’s loving protectiveness. _Jeez, Hana, what’s wrong with you? She’s...well, she’s apparently exactly like a human, but..._

She waited but a moment before following Brigitte into the backyard. It didn’t take long for her to catch up, because Brigitte had stopped.

In the middle of the yard sat a young, red-haired girl. Every inch of skin visible beneath her oversized t-shirt and shorts was smattered with freckles, and her face was smudged with dirt. She was sitting cross-legged in the tall grass. In her hands she held a realistic-looking sculpture of a kitten.

The girl looked up as they approached. Immediately Hana noticed her irises sparkled just like Brigitte’s. “Who are you?” she asked with the brazenness of all young children. Her voice, though distinct, had the same lilting accent as Brigitte’s, too.

“My name’s Brigitte.” Brigitte gave the girl a cordial nod. “Does a man named Torbjörn live here?”

The girl stared at them for a long time. Then she said “No,” and started smacking the cat against the ground.

“Who lives here, then?” Hana pressed.

The girl’s eyes were trained on the sculpture. “My Papa.” She cracked the cat off a rock embedded in the ground.

“What are you doing to that poor cat?” Brigitte visibly cringed as she asked.

The girl frowned. “Trying to wake it up.”

Brigitte knelt down beside her. With her big, gentle hands she took the sculpture from the girl and cradled it in her arms. To Hana’s surprise, the feline’s stone skin began to crack and crumble into the dirt. Brigitte leaned down and gave it a tiny kiss on the head. The last of the stone shell fell off, leaving a beautiful orange Maine coon kitten. It mewled as it pawed at Brigitte’s arm and then nibbled on it.

The girl turned to her with wide eyes. “How did you do that??”

Brigitte gave the cat a scratch under the chin. “I don’t know. But this is how I was born, too.”

“From a rock??”

“Uh-huh.”

The girl leaped to her feet. “Me too!”

“Really?” Brigitte stood up with the cat in her arms. “Do you remember anything from before you woke up?”

“Before?” The girl placed three fingers in her mouth and chewed on them. “Umm...Papa made me. He made all of us.”

“All of you?”

“Is he here?” Hana asked.

The girl stretched her fingers out toward the kitten Brigitte still held. Brigitte handed it to her. The girl petted it clumsily. “Uh-huh.”

“Can we talk to him?” Brigitte’s tone was soft and maternal. She seemed a natural with kids – or at least with odd kids like this girl.

“Okay.” The girl stood up and wandered over to the house. Despite her young age, she was quite tall. She looked as though she could grow up to rival, or even surpass, Brigitte. “Papa! Papa!”

They followed her through the weathered old doorway. The moment they did so they were greeted with the smell of old-fashioned cooking permeating the house, and a discordant chorus of young voices chattering.

“Papa!” the girl called out again. “There’s people!”

As they continued through the house Hana noticed a stepstool by a counter. _Huh. Guess not everyone here is as tall as Brigitte and this girl._

The girl led them to a closed door covered in scrap paper, notes, a thoroughly-destroyed calendar, and what appeared to be hand-drawn blueprints for various gadgets. She didn’t knock, but simply pulled the door open and skipped inside. “ _Papa!!_ ”

The room was dark, save for a bright light shining down on a work bench. In the shadows something stirred. It was small, smaller even than the young girl leading them around. As it reached out and flipped a light switch, Hana realized it was a tiny man wearing a welding mask. He pulled the mask off as his daughter approached.

He was an odd-looking man – half his face was hidden behind a gigantic, bushy, braided blond beard, and the exposed part was half-metal. He had one human arm, and one red metal claw, which was at present clutching a hunk of glowing, molten rock. He looked like he’d been to hell and back – not surprising if he was a part of the original Overwatch.

“Who the hell are you?” he grumbled. The claw jutted out to point crudely at Hana and Brigitte.

“Are you...Torbjörn?” Brigitte stepped forward. Her eyes were bright, and she wore a small, hopeful smile.

The man studied her for a brief moment. Then his good eye fell to the tattoo on her shoulder.

“My name is...” Before Brigitte could finish, the man dropped whatever he was working on and rushed over to her.

“Brigitte??” He grabbed her by the arm and examined it. “By God. It _is_ you.”

Suddenly the man pulled her into a lopsided bear hug. “Whoa!” Brigitte chuckled as she leaned down to his level to return the hug.

“I never thought I’d see you again!” When at last he drew back, the man’s wrinkled old face was alight with a smile. “I can’t believe you came back!”

“So you _are_ her dad?” Hana tried – and failed – to mask the disbelief in her voice. They looked about as unrelated as two people possibly could. “Do you know how she ended up turned to stone?”

“I lost most of my memories,” Brigitte said. Her giant arms finally released the small man she was hugging. “I just remembered your name. And Miss Song’s companions knew who you were!”

The girl, apparently Brigitte’s little sister, was looking back and forth between Hana and Brigitte and her father.

Torbjörn grunted, his smile fading a bit. “So you found your way to Overwatch. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Despite his words, he still regarded her with warmth in his gaze. “How long have you been awake?”

“About two days.”

“What finally woke ya?”

“Well, I heard Miss Song shouting, and I thought she was in danger. The next thing I knew I was awake.”

“She said she came out of a rock, too,” the young girl said. “I thought only we did that, Papa.”

Torbjörn nodded. “Meja, this is your sister. Her name is Brigitte.”

“Oh! That’s why she has your gear mark!” The girl, Meja, reached up and poked Brigitte’s bicep.

“Um, did your whole family somehow get turned to stone?” Hana thought of all the voices they’d heard on the way into the cabin. There were definitely more children afoot. And it didn’t seem like they were strangers to family members being petrified. Clearly something odd had happened to this family.

“Everyone else was here when they were born, so I was able to explain it to them.” Torbjörn beckoned for them to follow deeper into the workshop. When Meja attempted to join them, he sent her away. “Go tell the others their sister’s here to meet them.”

“Okay!” Meja’s long legs carried her away in a flash.

The workshop’s deep interior looked like the chambers of a madman. Parts and pieces strewn everywhere made for an obstacle course for Brigitte’s giant feet. At one point something crunched when she stepped down, but Torbjörn seemed not to notice, so with a grimace in Hana’s direction she just continued on.

“Where do I start?” Torb picked something up off a dusty work bench. It was some sort of chisel. “I’ve always been a crafter. Always liked building things. Most of the time it was practical – weapons, armor, machinery to help humans build even bigger things. But I’ve always had a penchant for sculpture, too. Never understood the appeal of painting, but statues made sense to me. They’re a marvel. I sought out the best tools I could find for my creations.”

Beneath the bench was an unassuming wooden drawer. Torbjörn pulled it open. Inside sat a single tool – a golden hammer.

Hana and Brigitte peered in at it.

Torbjörn picked it up in his organic hand, and curled his fingers around its handle. “I poured my heart and soul into all of my works. Now, as you probably know, statues have no will of their own. No identity. No heart. But one day I discovered that if they found a purpose, something that really made them feel alive...” He tapped the hammer gently against his palm. “Imagine my surprise when the first knight I sculpted showed up to defend me in the middle of an omnic attack.”

“Was that me?” Brigitte asked.

“No, no. This was decades ago.”

“So...wait.” Whatever Brigitte had been thinking of, it changed suddenly as a realization must have dawned on her. “So I’m not a human that was turned to stone? I’m a stone that was turned human?”

“How can you do that?” Just when they’d thought Brigitte’s situation couldn’t get any stranger, it proved Hana wrong yet again. “Stone isn’t alive. You can’t make a living thing out of a non-living thing.”

“Well apparently I can, because I did, and I still do.” With a huff he shoved the hammer in their faces. “But I thought you would never wake up. Twenty years ago I carved you, and you never so much as gave me a _hint_ you were one of the ones that’d wake up. You were stone from the minute I carved you to the minute I, er, lost you.”

“’Lost’ me?”

“Well, I might have...sold you to an art collector.” At Brigitte’s expression he added, “I have a lot of mouths to feed here, and I was sure you weren’t alive! Not all of them woke up. It took some kind of ‘spark’. Something to drive them to awaken. In two decades I couldn’t find that spark for you. Nothing ever worked!”

“I woke up when I heard Hana’s voice. I thought she was in danger...”

“Well isn’t that just sweet.” The man glared up at Hana. “You’re barely bigger than me. She’ll tear you right down the middle.”

“Excuse me?” In spite of her indignance Hana could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. “I’m not–”

“Papa,” Brigitte stepped in, “so, you made me, but for no real reason?”

“Hey, that’s no different from any other parent. And technically there _was_ a reason. I was hoping to make a squire for a close friend of mine.”

“Reinhardt??” In her excitement Brigitte stepped on something else. This time Torb definitely noticed, as he winced at the floor.

“Hrm. So you heard me talking about him before you woke up, then.” Torbjörn laid the hammer gingerly back in its drawer. “It’s just as well that wasn’t the spark that woke you up. You wouldn’t have any reason to still be here.”

“Where _is_ Reinhardt?” Brigitte remained dutifully behind Hana, but her eyes were all over the place, searching the workshop with childlike curiosity. “The doctor at the Overwatch base said no one has seen him in a long time.”

Torbjörn had gravitated over toward a door. His human hand brushed away the dust and cobwebs that had gathered around the handle, and then he pulled it slowly open.

Beyond the door lay a small room, little more than a closet. One single light shone down on a dusty suit of armor in a kneeling pose similar to Brigitte’s. Upon closer inspection, Hana realized it was not a real suit of armor, but in fact a sculpture of a knight _in_ armor.

“Wait...” Hana looked to Torbjörn in disbelief. “Reinhardt is a statue too??”

Torbjörn stared at the sculpture for a long time. It was chipped and scratched in places, especially on the arms and the chest.

“He wasn’t always,” he said.

“Was he born a human?” Brigitte asked.

“No. I made him. But he was alive at one point. He was _full_ of life. He came to my defense more times than I could count – and he had the scars to show for it.” Torbjörn reached out and leaned a hand on the old stone. His shoulders drooped as he spoke.

“...Is he dead?” Brigitte knelt down beside her father, and looked the statue over. This man, as a human, would have been even larger than her. She ran a hand down the plates of his armor, leaving a trail where the dust was cleared away.

“I’m not sure. That’s why I kept him here all these years, just in case he woke up again.” Torb stood up straight again, and turned his good eye on Hana and Brigitte. “He was a good friend to me. One of the only people I ever really trusted.”

“What made him turn back to stone?” Brigitte’s usually-commanding voice was a lot softer than usual. Her gaze was focused on Reinhardt.

“I can’t say. I thought things were fine. Once the Crisis ended, we weren’t in as much danger anymore. I assumed everything would be all right, that he would live here and help out with the little ones like he always did. Then one day he just...”

A heavy silence fell over the three of them.

Then Brigitte said, “He didn’t need to protect you anymore.”

With the single lightbulb shining down on them, Reinhardt’s statue cast a long shadow over Brigitte. She kept her gaze pointed forward, even when Hana stepped into her peripheral vision.

“Life is so...confusing,” Brigitte murmured. “I don’t know why I’m here, or how long I’ll be alive. I just want to keep Hana safe. Is that a pathetic reason to exist?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” Hana knelt down in front of her, forcing her knight to look her in the eyes. “You need to find other reasons to stay alive. You can be my protector if that’s what you really want – but you should also just be Brigitte. Like how I’m D.Va, but I’m also just Hana.”

“That’s what I always told this one.” Torb pointed his claw at Reinhardt’s still form. “Stubborn bastard never listened.”

Brigitte lowered her eyes away from Hana’s. One large hand reached out and clasped the handle of Reinhardt’s giant hammer. “I’m supposed to be your squire.” The old metal scraped as she attempted to pull it from the stone fingers enclasping it. “Doesn’t that give you a purpose?”

With her immense strength, Brigitte was able to wrench the hammer free. Hana stared at her rippling muscles as she raised the weapon high. It caught the light and reflected it, casting sparkles across the surface of the stone knight. Where the light fell, the stone began to crack. Torbjörn’s eyebrows raised as he watched his daughter wield Reinhardt’s legendary rocket hammer as though she’d held it a thousand times before.

Dust and chunks of stone crumbled to the floor. Then, suddenly, there was a man rising to his feet, stretching his massive arms out like he had just woken up.

“Argh!” His joints cracked as he twisted and stretched. “My back...”

It took him a moment, but when Reinhardt spotted Torbjörn he immediately lit up. “Ah, my diminutive friend!” He pulled Torbjörn into a hug that left the smaller man covered in rock dust. “It has been so long!” When he next spotted Brigitte, his smile changed to an open mouth of surprise. “...Brigitte? Is that you??”

Brigitte brightened. “You know me?”

“I know Torbjörn was trying to wake you. Looks like he succeeded!” Reinhardt grabbed her next. As he wrapped an arm playfully around her neck and pulled her in close, Hana realized that she was correct in her earlier prediction – Reinhardt _was_ even larger than Brigitte. Only by a few centimeters, but at her height that was an incredible feat. He certainly looked like he’d seen his share of battles as well. One of his eyes was a milky white, with a slashed scar above and below it. The hair on his head and face was white flecked with grey, and his beard seemed to cover even more facial scars.

“You’ve been asleep for almost twenty years, you big oaf!” Torbjörn smacked him on the arm with his claw.

“Twenty years??” Reinhardt cackled. “Well, that explains why you look so much older!”

As the giant man stood up at his full height, Hana couldn’t help but stare in amazement. He was larger than life, totally inhuman in his massiveness. And yet he seemed as gentle and good-natured as Brigitte. She could definitely believe Brigitte had been created to be Reinhardt’s squire.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir.” Brigitte dropped to a knee and clenched a fist over her heart. “I’m sorry it took me so long to join you.”

“Don’t apologize!” He tugged her to her feet. It appeared effortless – thinking on how heavy the individual pieces of Brigitte’s armor had sounded when they hit the floor, Hana could only guess at how strong the man must have been. “But I must know – what finally woke you from your slumber?”

“Um, well...” She gestured to Hana. “I thought Miss Song needed protecting. So I kind of just...”

“Came to life in the middle of the night and scared the heck out of me.”

“Yeah. That.”

Reinhardt chuckled. “I’m not surprised it took something like that.” He turned his amused gaze on Hana then. “Is she doing a good job of keeping you safe?”

“Of course! I mean, not that there’s been any real danger, but...”

“None that you are _aware_ of.” Reinhardt’s voice took an ominous tone. “You never know when something might–”

Suddenly his hammer was driving down toward them. With lightning speed Brigitte opened her shield. The hammer struck its surface and bounced harmlessly off the lion emblem in its center.

“Haha! Very impressive, Brigitte!” He clapped a hand down on her shoulder. “The old man really _did_ model you after me!” His laughter was so loud and hearty it reverberated in Hana’s chest.

“Thank you, sir.” Brigitte’s attempt at stoicism was foiled by her big, dorky smile. Hana found her gaze lingering on the other girl far longer than it needed to. A piece of carved stone come to life had no business being this pretty. Then again, she _was_ a work of art.

“And I can see you already have an admirer.” Reinhardt’s words were spoken through a smirk. Hana pretended not to know what he was talking about.

Brigitte must have thought he was talking to her. “I do admire Hana!” She took Hana’s hands and knelt down before her again. “As she gave me life, so I owe that life to her.”

Only after a long, drawn-out sigh from Hana did Brigitte finally release her from her grip. “I really don’t need someone laying their life down for me, you know. I’d rather have a living friend.”

Brigitte looked to Reinhardt, seemingly for guidance. He was simply watching with folded arms and a small smile. “But...a girl like you should have someone willing to defend her at all costs,” Brigitte said.

“A girl like me?” Hana poked the taller girl on the forehead. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean a girl so – so small, and delicate, and...”

“I’m not delicate. And I’m actually above the average height in South Korea.”

“I - I mean a girl like...” Brigitte cleared her throat, and Hana noticed her cheeks were pink again. “...Pretty,” she murmured, so quiet Hana almost couldn’t hear her.

“Ahahaha!” Reinhardt slung an arm around her broad shoulders. “Your father may have modeled you after yours truly, but he certainly gave you _his_ flirting skills!”

“Flirting??” Brigitte’s face went from pink to red. “N-no, I’m not – I would never. It’s not honorable for a knight to flirt with her charge.”

“That never stopped this one.” Torbjörn jerked a thumb at Reinhardt.

“Ah, I cannot help myself! I’m a lover of people!”

The thought of anyone flirting with the claw-handed little man before her kind of blew Hana’s mind. But Reinhardt _was_ a lot like Brigitte – the human who had woken him from stone was probably his whole world, too.

“Well, ya didn’t love me enough to stick around and help with all the little ones,” Torbjörn grunted.

“Ooh, are there more young ones around? I want to meet them!”

“If you want to meet them you’re gonna have to help me with the cooking. I’m tired of feeding all these hungry little mouths myself.”

“Of course! I can’t imagine how much the poor things must be suffering, having to live off of _your_ cooking.”

“I could un-build you, you know.”

“Now why would you do that?” The grin on Reinhardt’s face reached from one ear to the other. He grabbed Torbjörn and all but dragged him out the workshop door. Brigitte and Hana exchanged a glance as they followed behind.

Hana really shouldn’t have been surprised that Brigitte’s family was this strange.

* * *

 

The dinner table had a dozen chairs around it, and half of them were filled by the time Hana and the others entered the dining room. Children ranging in age from toddlers to teenagers milled about, the young ones chattering, scribbling in coloring books, and playing with toys, the older ones either talking or texting.

“Hey, Papa.” One of the teenage girls looked up as he approached. Her brow quirked as she noticed her father’s three companions. “Who are you?”

“Elin, this is Reinhardt.” His claw moved to point to Hana and Brigitte, but the girl stopped him.

“ _The_ Reinhardt? The one you always talk about?”

“You always talk about me?” Reinhardt elbowed him, still grinning.

“Yeah. The one I’m always _complaining_ about.” He tapped Brigitte lightly on the arm. “And this is your big sister, Brigitte. And, er...”

“Hana,” Hana mumbled.

The girl dropped her phone to the table. “Wait, Hana – Hana Song?”

“Oh, you know me?” Hana puffed her chest out a little. “Yep. That's me.”

“Oh my God, what are you doing in the middle of Scandinavian nowhere?” She was up and out of her seat in mere moments, hovering around Hana like her fans always did. “We love your livestreams! They’re so exciting!”

“Thanks!” She hadn’t expected to have fans way out here. Sometimes she underestimated her own popularity. “I’m actually here because of your sister. She never got to meet her family, so...”

“So you’re one of us?” Elin studied Brigitte. “...Yeah, I can see it.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sister.” Brigitte gave her a small bow. Hana noticed she never gave anyone as deep a bow as she usually gave Hana. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here all these years.”

The other girl stared at her, nonplussed. Then she said, “So you’re one of those old-fashioned ones Papa used to make.”

“Old-fashioned? What do you mean?”

“Sometimes the old way is the _best_ way.” Reinhardt clanked his hammer down at the table to claim his place.

The girl eyed the giant weapon. “Uh-huh.”

“So your name is Elin?” Brigitte said. “I’d like to learn all of your names.” She moved over to where two very young children were bickering over a coloring book.

“Good luck with that,” Elin said. “ _I_ haven’t even learned all of their names.”

“How many are there?” Hana asked.

“Papa, how many have you made now?”

“Well, uh...” Torbjörn scratched his head. “...Quite a few.”

“Why so many?” was Hana’s next thought.

“I just like having them around, all right?” Torbjörn crossed his arms. “Better than being all alone out here.”

“You could have come back to Overwatch,” Hana said. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”

Torb huffed. “At that point I’d _rather_ be alone.’

The two toddlers closest to Brigitte were little boys. One was blond, the other had bright red hair. They looked up as Brigitte knelt down to them. “Hello!” She gave them a gentle wave with her big, gloved hand.

The kids stared up at her. After a minute one of them said, “Cool armor.”

“Thanks!”

It was hard to believe all of these children had originally been statues, but that seemed to be the case. They all had that gemstone sparkle in their eyes, and their features were perfect, much too perfect to have been random genetic gambles.

It was equally hard to believe that a stone could be so soft and caring toward other creatures. And yet there Brigitte was, cooing over the kids’ erratic coloring jobs. _Damn it, Hana, quit being so thirsty for a rock._

She slid into a seat at the table and, in spite of her self-chastisement, continued to stare at Brigitte. She slipped her chin into her palm and watched as the girl complimented her little brothers’ art. It would be a feat _not_ to be smitten with someone so sweet and noble. A little dorky, but hey, Hana was a professional gamer. She was used to dorky.

From out the corner of her eye she noticed Elin was discreetly holding her phone up, obviously taking a picture of their celebrity guest. “Do you want a picture together?” Hana decided to ask her.

“Oh, I – no, that’s - I mean, would it be okay?” The girl was already up and positioning herself beside Hana. She tucked her hair back in much the same way Brigitte did, and held her phone out for a selfie. Hana struck her usual wink and peace sign pose. As much as she tried to hide it, Hana noticed the girl’s hands were shaking a little as she took the picture. “Um, thanks!” As soon as they took the picture together she skittered off, already furiously typing away on her phone.

Hana couldn’t help but smile. Teenagers were always so funny about meeting her. Like she wasn’t just another one of them.

Word must have gotten around the house that they had company, because within the span of ten minutes there were a dozen Lindholm kids gathered in the dining room. The younger ones were mostly interested in meeting Brigitte, while the older ones were all clamoring for Hana’s attention. “Will you sign my copy of Starcraft II?” One of them, a boy of probably about thirteen or fourteen, held up a worn PC game box.

“Wow, somebody who still buys physical games? I _have_ to sign that.” She signed it with a marker borrowed from another child. “Here you go. Love, D.Va!”

Although Brigitte was busy meeting her siblings, Hana caught the other girl keeping an eye on her. _I guess you can’t be too careful. Especially when it comes to fans._

She wondered how the girl was feeling seeing Hana swarmed with adoring fans. A petty little part of her wanted Brigitte to feel competitive about it, and try to win her attention. But she didn’t really want Brigitte to feel hurt or jealous. Brigitte was kind. She didn’t deserve that.

“I’m gonna go check on the food,” Hana said after a while. A few of the teens asked if they could come with her, to which she responded, “I’ll be right back! Just wait here.”

Unsurprisingly, her own footsteps were soon echoed by the heavy tramp of metal boots behind her. She didn’t have to turn around, but she did, and of course when she did she beheld her loyal knight following just behind her.

With a little smile Hana said, “I told you I’m famous.”

“I didn’t realize you were, like, a celebrity. A celebrity soldier?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird, I know.”

“Well, I think it’s cool. And you’re really sweet to your fans. I don’t know if I’d have that kind of patience.”

“You? Seriously?” Hana leaned against the old wooden doorway leading out to the backyard. “You’re like the sweetest girl ever. I could never see you being rude to someone.”

“Eh, I have my moments.” She leaned against the other side of the doorway. Their feet were nearly touching, in part simply because of how huge Brigitte’s were. By comparison Hana felt so tiny. For once, she didn’t really mind it.

_God, why do I feel all flustered? I’m **D.Va**! There are a million people who would kill for a chance to even be this close to me. _Brigitte had just been the lucky (?) one to fall into Hana’s life. She was so sweet, but so naïve, too. Hana could die any day. What would Brigitte do then?

As usual, Brigitte’s practical words broke through Hana’s overthinking. “So you wanted to check on the food?” she asked.

“No. Not really.”

“Oh. You said–”

“I know what I said. But really, I just wanted to step away for a minute. I don’t have infinite patience, either, even though I love my fans.”

“Ah. I understand.” She drew back a little. “Did you want me to go, too? I’ll gladly give you space if you need it.”

“You’re fine. You don’t want pictures and autographs.”

Brigitte chuckled. “No. That kind of thing seems weird to me, to be honest.”

“Eh. It’s a way to preserve memories. Some people will consider meeting me to be the best thing that ever happens to them.”

Brigitte hesitated a moment. There was a look in her eyes that Hana could clearly read, but her heart still fluttered when the girl said, “I know _I_ do.”

Hana pushed her playfully. “Wow. Cheesy.”

“Cheesy? Is that bad?”

Hana nodded. “The worst.”

In just a short time together Brigitte had already begun to sync up with Hana’s sense of humor. Where before she may have taken the response literally, she now responded simply by sticking her tongue out at Hana.

That cockiness was wiped right away when Hana leaned in and enveloped the giant girl in a hug. At first Brigitte froze, her eyes flicking about uncertainly – but it did not take long for her hands to settle gingerly on Hana’s comparatively tiny back. She ran those hands softly upward, until she clutched Hana protectively to her. A tiny chill ran through Hana’s whole body. _Oh, she **does** give good hugs._

“I’m glad I’m alive,” Brigitte said. “Hugs just aren’t the same when you’re made of stone.”

They remained together longer than what probably would have been considered an appropriate length for a hug between friends. Hana just loved looking at the other girl’s eyes – not that the rest of her was bad to look at, either. A part of her was considering just throwing herself into a whirlwind romance with the knight. But as she was thinking of getting up on her tiptoes and just kissing the girl, a thought crossed her mind. _She’s technically an adult, but she was like, just born._ There was no “before she was turned to stone”. Hana had known her for her entire life – all two days of it. Hana was her whole world because she knew nothing else. Was it really right to pursue someone under those circumstances?

Her change in emotions must have been evident on her face, for Brigitte’s smile faded a little. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh...yeah.” Hana drew back from her at last. “I’m glad you’re alive, too. Being alive is nice.”

Brigitte’s big, dorky grin returned. “So, I kind of wanted to see what they’re making for dinner...”

“Of course you do.” Hana nudged her. “I’m actually pretty hungry myself, though.”

Suddenly she was scooped off the ground. “I can’t have you weak from hunger. Don’t worry, my lady, I’ll carry you to your sustenance!”

Although it was certainly in-character for the girl to behave in such a way, Hana suspected by the smile in her words that she knew damn well she was being flirtatious. _Hm. Maybe she isn’t as naïve as she seems._

“Oh, my dear knight, I’m too weak...” Hana wilted in her arms. “I can’t...go on...”

Brigitte wasted no time carrying her off, the two of them giggling the whole way.


	4. Stand Up and Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Title inspiration](https://youtu.be/b-B4hP-t85M)

_Blinding sheets of rain stuck her hair to her face and the cloth beneath her armor to her flesh. A damp shiver coursed through her – the open field they were camped in offered no shelter from the wind that buffeted the land._

_Her memory was spotty at best, but apparently some details still lingered. She could remember looking up into the scarred face of her lieutenant, ever brave and resilient, for guidance. His firm nod filled her with renewed vigor. She got to her feet and picked her mace up from the muddy ground._

_“Stand up and fight!”_

“Brigitte?” A soft hand somehow touched her shoulder through her armor and dressings beneath. “It’s morning.”

The scene before her faded away as Brigitte opened her eyes. Standing over her was the girl who had given her life. Her charge. Hana’s delicate fingers were rested on the exposed skin of Brigitte’s shoulder. She was looking down at Brigitte with an odd amount of concern in her eyes.

“Is everything all right?” Brigitte was upright in seconds, ready for whatever might have been causing Hana such concern. There didn’t seem to be any threats about.

“Everything’s fine. But you were mumbling in your sleep.”

“Oh. I was?”

“Yeah. You sounded upset.”

Brigitte rubbed at her forearm. “I’m okay. Weird dreams, is all.”

Hana studied her with those sweet, deep brown eyes of hers. “You dream?”

“I guess so. It feels more like memories, but I know I’ve never been in these situations before.”

Hana sat down beside her on the bed. “You sounded scared.”

Brigitte brushed off the observation. “I’m fine.” She got to her feet. “Do you think the Lindholms will be okay with us using their shower?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hana’s gaze was still lingering on her. Brigitte wished she could tell what the other girl was thinking more often. She could be difficult to read.

Their dinner with the Lindholms had been fun. But as Brigitte got to know her siblings, and talked and laughed with them, she’d begun to notice Hana withdrawing from their conversation more and more. At one point Brigitte took her aside to ask her if everything was all right. Hana had dismissed her concern and assured her there was no issue. But Brigitte couldn’t help but feel that wasn’t the truth. She didn’t seem angry or upset, just...distant.

“We can leave whenever you want,” Brigitte said. “I don’t know how long you wanted to stay–”

“It’s up to you,” Hana replied. “It’s your family.”

“Well, yeah, but...”

Hana had that distant look on her face again. Brigitte found herself wishing she had more experience with people. She had no idea what Hana was, or wasn’t, trying to get across.

She surprised Hana when she stepped in front of her path. “What?” was all she could think to say.

Hana raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You’re acting different. What – what is it?” Her confidence wavered in the face of Hana’s indignance.

“I’m not acting different. Why would you say that?”

She had no reason to lie. And yet there Brigitte – her alleged protector – was, all but accusing her. “...I don’t know. I’m sorry, Miss Song, I–”

Hana turned away from her. She seemed suddenly interested in something out the window.

“You should be with your family,” she murmured.

Brigitte faltered. “I...I would like that. But I’m in your service, Hana. I owe you my life.”

“No, no you really don’t.” Hana whipped back around. “I’m just some rich bisexual mess who bought your statue because I thought you were cool and I didn’t want some old dude winning you. I didn’t buy the lifetime servitude of a real, live knight. I don’t _need_ that. But you need them.” She picked up a piece of paper from the nightstand. One of the drawings the kids had done with Brigitte. It was a mess, but the tall, smiling figure in the middle of two smaller figures was unmistakable. “They understand you. And you were built to be Reinhardt’s squire, not my servant. This is where you belong.”

Brigitte had no idea how to respond to that. It was, in all honesty, true. Meeting her father and siblings had stoked a craving in her heart she hadn’t known existed. She wanted to be a part of this sweet family of living art and their loving sculptor. She wanted to get to know the man she was created to apprentice with.

“Brigitte,” Hana said, her eyes soft with the same affection Brigitte felt for her, “your life is just as important as mine. I can’t take you away from your family.”

“I...” Brigitte ground her teeth. _I’m being a terrible knight._ “...I _would_ like to be with them.”

“So be with them. It’s okay. I’ll come visit.”

Despite how calm she sounded, Hana’s face was tense with barely-concealed emotion. Brigitte leaned down and cupped the side of it with one hand. Hana made a tiny noise deep in her throat.

“No,” she said. “Even if you don’t need me, your organization needs me. Hiding in the deep woods of Sweden isn’t going to help the world at all.”

Hana gazed up at her. “...That’s true.”

“So it’s settled then – I'm coming back with you. I’m going to join your ‘Overwatch’. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me!” She spoke the last sentence with a smile, hoping Hana would not take it aggressively.

To her relief, Hana’s lips eased into a smile as well. She threw her arms around Brigitte’s neck. A tingle crept over Brigitte’s skin as she pulled Hana in for another hug.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Hana whispered. “But I don’t want to take you away from your family...”

“Actually, I have an idea about that.” She gingerly released Hana from her arms. “If Reinhardt is anything like me...”

“It seems like he is.”

Brigitte nodded. “So when we get to breakfast today, I’m going to talk to them.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She noticed Hana’s stare lingering on her. The other girl’s chin remained pointed upward, but she only made eye contact part of the time – the rest of the time she seemed to be examining Brigitte’s mouth for some reason. Eventually Brigitte took a step back and pointed at the bathroom. “So I’ll be in...the shower...if you need me...”

It was as if a spell on Hana had been broken then. “Oh, right. Of course.” The other girl snapped her attention back to the present moment. “I’ll, uh, shower once you’re done.”

“Unless you want to shower together.” It was an impulsive, and extremely un-knightly, thing to say. But the look on Hana’s face was worth it – the girl flushed redder than the cape on Brigitte’s armor.

“Um, excuse me??” She assumed that cocky persona she’d taken on amongst Brigitte’s siblings. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

She suspected Hana was teasing, but couldn’t tell for sure. “...I’m sorry,” Brigitte said just in case, “that was rude. I’m not very good at talking to other people yet.”

“I’ll say.” Hana sauntered past her. On the way by Brigitte she paused and bumped a hip playfully against her. Brigitte was overcome with a desire to grab her up, to hold her and kiss her and shower her with love all over. Though she was new to this world, she recognized that feeling of love and wanting. It was so familiar to her, more familiar than it had any reason to be. Loving and being with Hana felt like what she was meant to do. Ever since she heard that sweet voice crying out in the night, something deep in her heart knew this was what she needed to awaken for. This was her purpose.

She wondered if her dreams would have anything more to tell her in the coming nights.

* * *

 

Breakfast with the Lindholms was, much like dinner, an absolute feast. Brigitte heaped her plate high, eager to taste all of the interesting foods they had laid out. Hana took little samples of everything. _She really should eat more_ , Brigitte thought to herself. She was skinny as could be, and so far the only food Brigitte had seen her subsist on was junky snack food. She was happy to at least see the girl actually eating something of substance, regardless of how small her portions were.

Reinhardt emerged from the kitchen with another pan of hot foods. Brigitte could hear Torbjörn yelling something from within the kitchen. Reinhardt only laughed.

Everyone around them was diving into breakfast with the same ferocity as Brigitte herself. As Brigitte wolfed down some syrup-drenched waffles she noticed Hana reach for a second helping. _Good. Girl needs to eat._

Reinhardt and Torbjörn sat down last, after everyone else was already eating. Toys and books were pushed out of the way to make room for Reinhardt’s giant plate as he sat down opposite Brigitte, between two of the younger Lindholm children. “Ah, there’s barely any left for me!” he exclaimed with a chortle. “I can see my squire has an appetite to rival my own.”

Brigitte nodded, her mouth full.

Her father didn’t eat much, though he certainly ate more than Hana. He seemed to be moreso keeping an eye on his family than actually enjoying his breakfast. It was understandable – with so many kids around, chaos could break out at any second.

She was impaling another waffle on her fork when Brigitte noticed Hana staring at her. Brigitte offered her a shy smile. Hana averted her eyes.

“So, Reinhardt,” Brigitte said once her mouthful was down. “You were a part of Overwatch, right?”

“Not this again,” Torbjörn muttered.

“You bet I was!” Reinhardt slammed his fist on the table, rattling everyone’s plates. “We protected the entire world.”

“You didn’t do a very good job with South Korea,” Hana murmured. “But the new Overwatch is working on that.”

“New Overwatch?”

“There’s no ‘new Overwatch’,” Torbjörn cut in. “It’s a bunch of kids trying to recreate something that should have been buried with the Omnic Crisis decades ago.”

“What do you have against Overwatch, anyway?” Hana pressed.

“I don’t have anything against the _idea_ of Overwatch – but what it became, just a bunch of corruption and cover-ups, _that’s_ what I had a problem with. People can form whatever new groups they want – Overwatch should stay buried.”

“But Overwatch was a symbol of hope!” Reinhardt said. “That is most likely why they cling to the moniker – it gives people something to believe in!”

Hana nodded. “And we’re being careful not to make the mistakes of the original Overwatch. Everything is transparent with us. We don’t have any secret black ops divisions or political ties. We all just want to help people.”

“Right, that’s how it starts. Then you start with the conflicts of interest, and the bribery, and pretty soon you’re making budget allowances for a middle-aged lesbian to genetically engineer jackalopes in the Watchpoint basement.”

“Papa, please stop.” She could see Hana was getting visibly upset. “Hana’s people are good. I’ve met them.”

Torbjörn trailed off to a grumble.

“Well _I_ for one _miss_ Overwatch,” Reinhardt continued. “I loved serving the world in such a way!”

“Actually, master, I wanted to talk to you about that.” Brigitte looked to Hana, then back to Reinhardt. “Being that I’m Hana’s knight, and she’s part of Overwatch now, I’m going to join alongside her. So...I’ll be living on-base with her there.”

“You’re leaving?” Reinhardt’s wrinkled cheeks sagged as he frowned. “But we just met!”

“I know. But it’s my duty.” She sighed dramatically. “If only there was a way to be with _both_ of you at the same time...”

“I will rejoin Overwatch!” Reinhardt rose up from his chair and slapped his palms down on the table. “And then I can properly train you, my squire!”

“You’re gonna leave me?? After all these years of me keeping your stone ass around??” Torbjörn whacked him in the back of the head with his claw.

“Well, I guess you will have to come too, my charge!” He grabbed Torb’s claw and held it near to his chest, as Brigitte would do with Hana’s hands.

“Hmph. I’d rather not.” Torbjörn yanked his hand free and waved it toward the rest of the table’s occupants. “And how would I do that, anyway? Pack up two dozen kids and ship them to Gibraltar?”

“I’d join Overwatch,” Elin, the girl who'd wanted a picture with Hana yesterday, piped up. “That’d be cool.”

“No one’s joining Overwatch!” Torbjörn hissed. “We’re staying here.”

“Well...I’m not.” It was difficult, but Brigitte had a duty, and to that duty she would adhere. This family was fine where they were. They did not need protecting. Not like Hana did.

Torbjörn grunted. “Fine, then. Go.”

All of the littlest kids were watching her with sadness in their eyes. Hana still would not look at her. _What am I supposed to do?_ She must have been sweating, for the skin of her arms was starting to itch. Upon settling her fingers on it, she realized it was dry and rough. She scratched at the scaly skin, which thankfully gave way to smooth skin underneath. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. _Thought I was turning back to stone for a second there._

“Brigitte needs oil.” Meja pointed to Brigitte’s upper arm. “Her skin’s all scratchy.”

Brigitte covered the spot with her hand. “I’m fine.”

Now everyone was paying attention to her. Even Hana stole a glance over at her arm.

Despite his irritation, Torbjörn sighed and said to her, “Come with me a minute.” He got up from the table and stood, waiting, for Brigitte. She excused herself and pushed her chair out, then followed her tiny creator through the house to his workshop.

“You’ve been around a long time,” he said as he yanked open the door with his claw. “Even the highest-quality statues need upkeep.”

“Am I turning back to stone?” The thought absolutely terrified her. She’d just begun her life – she wasn’t ready to let it go yet.

“No. You just need a little sealer.” He dragged a stepstool over to the cabinets above his work bench. As he spoke he tossed things out of them, letting them crash to the floor (no wonder she had stepped on so many things the first time), until finally he fished out a humongous gray jug. “Ah, here it is.”

“Here what is?” She followed Torbjörn’s lead as he gestured for her to sit down in an old former-dining room chair that was covered in scratches and flecks of dried paint. He opened the jug, which had a faint chemical smell, and poured some of its clear contents onto a rag. Then he took her arm and began rubbing it down with whatever was in the jug. Upon closer inspection Brigitte could read that its label said “Premium Tile & Stone Sealer”.

Weirdly, the concoction felt great on her skin. She actually sighed at one point – she hadn’t realized just how dry it had been.

“You should probably take some of this with you,” Torb murmured. “This is the best one I’ve found so far.”

“I don’t _want_ to leave you guys,” she said. “But Hana needs me more. She’s in danger every day.”

Torbjörn polished her with surprising care. “I know, Brigitte. Honestly...”

When he did not finish Brigitte raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Torb sighed. “I’ve been hiding out here for so damn long. Feels real shitty letting my daughter go fight the battles I should be helping to fight.”

“Papa, you don’t have to. You did your time. I think everyone understands.”

“Maybe everyone else does, but I can’t make it right with myself.”

“Well then...” Brigitte looked at him with total honesty. “You could come back with us.”

Her father poured some more sealer onto the rag and worked it into her other arm. “I know I could.” He lifted her arm up to get the other side, too. Brigitte held nice and still for him. “You’re good stock, Brigitte. I based you on the greatest man I’ve ever known. You don’t deserve to be thrown out into the world without a family to come home to every night.”

She watched him finish up the polishing job. Her skin looked so smooth and nice where he had cared for it.

“I guess I can go back with ya, at least,” he said quietly.

“Oh, Papa!” She hopped off the chair to crush him in a bear hug. Torbjörn sputtered and flailed. “I love you, thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah - I didn’t say I was gonna stay!”

With a grin, Brigitte said, “I know.”

* * *

 

“Yay! We’re gonna join Overwatch!” One of the young Lindholm boys ran in circles around Brigitte’s legs, pursued by a cat chasing his untied shoelaces. Brigitte could only smile. The distant look had finally fled Hana’s face, and now she was engaging with Brigitte’s siblings again. For someone who claimed to lack patience, she certainly had a way with kids.

“I’m gonna be, like, _friends_ with D.Va.” Brigitte turned when she heard Elin’s voice quietly from the other side of the room, holding her phone up and apparently having a conversation with someone. “Yeah, my weird older sister brought her home with her yesterday. I think they’re, like, gay, maybe. Or something. But anyway she took a picture with me, here I’ll send it to you!”

“Are you calling me gay?” Brigitte called from across the room.

Elin didn’t look up from her phone screen. “Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?”

The phone slipped out of her fingers as Brigitte plucked it from her little sister’s hands. “Hey!” Although she was tall, Elin was not nearly tall enough to get the phone back from Brigitte. The first thing Brigitte noticed was a different teenage girl on the screen, staring at her. “Brigitte took my phone!”

A heavy stomping rattled the floor as Reinhardt passed through with a child under each arm. All three were laughing. Torbjörn was chasing after them, waving his claw hand in a mock threat. While Brigitte was distracted Elin grabbed her phone back and resumed her chat as if nothing had happened.

As she watched the kids at play Brigitte was saddled with a feeling of nostalgia yet again. A tiny smile warmed her face as she watched Hana give one of the younger girls a piggyback ride. Hana caught her eye and smiled back. Brigitte’s heart fluttered a little.

She could never had stayed here without her.

* * *

 

When the Overwatch jet returned for them, it felt out-of-place amidst the peaceful Swedish wilds. Brigitte could somewhat understand her father’s reluctance to return to battle – who would want to go back to a life of violence and trauma when they could hide peacefully away from it all in a place like this? If she hadn’t had a responsibility to Hana, who in turn had a responsibility to the people of her country, she might have been tempted to hide out here as well.

Regardless, when the plane took off he was right there with them. Not happy about it by any means, but there.

Brigitte spent a long time simply staring out the window. Hana left her to her thoughts. Brigitte was grateful for that – she had a ton of them, and had not had much of a moment to herself since, well, since her birth, really.

Finding out she was only a few days old should have been shocking. It probably should have sent her into some sort of existential crisis. But it wasn’t shocking, and that was largely because it didn’t feel correct. It felt like someone telling her in earnest something they believed to be true that she knew was not. She knew herself. Living creatures did not take a mere few days to figure themselves out.

Somewhere, at some point, she had lived before. She would swear on that.

Whether she was aware of it or not, Hana played a part as well. There was a reason it took her voice to awaken Brigitte after twenty years of dormancy. No one else could bring her back to life – not her father, not her siblings, not Reinhardt. There was a memory hiding just under the surface of her mind that fled every time she tried to break through and retrieve it. It was so frustrating. Brigitte squeezed her eyes shut as she pressed her forehead against the pane of glass separating her from the sky.

_I won’t put this on her. I’ll figure it out myself._

In that position she remained until her eyes relaxed to stay closed of their own will. Though her senses kept dimly aware of any noises or potential threats, she allowed her mind to drift, chasing those fleeting memories with everything she had.

* * *

 

_The roar of battle was an unforgettable sound. The screams of her battalion and of her enemies as they fell around her, face-down in the mud. The clash of all manner of weapons devised by both sides to slaughter as many as possible. That damned rain, inescapable, soaking her to the bone._

_The grass she slogged through was tinted pink with blood. She kept her eyes trained forward to avoid thinking about it. The only goal in her mind was protecting her home. Her family. The ones she loved more than anything in the world._

_The air was sliced in half by a thick sword aiming straight for her gut. She lifted her shield just in time to deflect the blow. A quick leap forward drove the shield right into the chest of her armored attacker, knocking them to the ground. She took that moment to seize the enemy’s weapon and aim it down at their chest._

_Taking a life was always the worst part. **I have to keep everyone safe** , she reminded herself **.** _

_The knight, what turned out to be a boy no older than her, lifted his helmet’s visor as she was gazing down at her soon-to-be kill. Through her own visor he found her eyes and stared into them, saying nothing._

_Her hands, normally so deft and skilled, faltered as she was reminded of the gravity of what she was about to do. This was a life, just like hers. A soldier protecting his home. He probably had a family, siblings, a lover, just like her._

_In her hesitation, the boy’s eyes changed. Moments later she heard footsteps sink into the grassy mud just behind her – then came a sudden, piercing pain in her chest. Her gaze slid down, knowing but not wanting to know. The blood-soaked tip of a sharpened lance cleaved right through her armor emerged from her chest. Then, just as quickly, it was yanked back out, freeing all of the blood it had spilled inside of her._

_The boy she had spared scrambled to his feet and hurried away. Brigitte stumbled forward, unable even to turn and see the enemy that had killed her. The mud softened her landing as her armored knees hit the ground. It didn’t take long for the loss of blood to distort her senses. But through her daze, she saw a massive silhouette appear._

**_“No!”_ **

_She was grabbed up by the giant hands of her lieutenant, who began sloppily trying to stop her bleeding. As her body began to give out the hole in her armor released its secret contents; a letter slipped out into the grass. The letter from her wife that had just arrived the morning before. The letter that gushed excitement about her coming back home soon._

_In her dream, she could see her. It was a different face, but an unmistakable aura._

_Her lieutenant must have realized she was lost, for he rose with a roar and charged at the soldier who had killed her. Brigitte could barely process it. Her head lolled to the side in the blood-stained grass as she stared, fading, up into the angry grey sky. She had almost made it home. Almost made it back to her._

_She could hear Reinhardt crying out in pain as he was overwhelmed by the younger, more agile enemy soldiers. That was the last thing she heard before she drifted away from the battle, away from the world._

_Not forever, though._

**_I’ll still protect you...any way that I can._ **


	5. Meditations on the Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone. I'm sorry updates for this fic suddenly ground to a halt with no explanation. My life the past few months has been in an absolute state of calamity and depression hit me very hard. The only way I could continue work on this fic was by writing small installments here and there, hence the nature of this chapter as a bunch of short parts sewn together. That said, I took my time with it and the fic is still very much on-course to where I wanted it to go, and I am already partway through writing the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you very much for your supportive comments during the story's hiatus. They meant more than you know.

_In place of nightmares, Hana’s dreams instead began to shift toward the bizarre, mundane and yet utterly foreign. That night she found herself sitting at an old wooden table with a scratched surface, a chipped bowl of what could only be described as mush in front of her. Across from her, with an equally dingy bowl of meal, sat a little girl. Hana somehow knew she was five years old._

_The girl took a small bite of her dinner, and grimaced as she swallowed it. Her eyes flicked briefly to the empty seat between them, its old wood covered by a thin layer of dust and the beginning strands of a cobweb. Dangling from the corner of the chair’s back was a silver medal._

_They ate in silence._

_The tiny house was clearly old, though Hana found it oddly familiar. The dining room was also a kitchen, with an old kindling stove, a table, and not much else. The rest of the mush was sitting in a rapidly-cooling cast-iron pot over the stove. It was far too much for just the two of them to finish._

_Hana’s throat tightened. She tugged at the collar of her black dress, but it didn’t help._

_“Are you choking, Mama?” the girl asked._

_“...No,” Hana replied. It took everything in her power to swallow down the lump in her throat._

_Another long silence draped itself over them after that. Hana stared down at the table’s surface, observing blankly at all the little chips and dings from years of use._

_The sound of porcelain scraping across the table brought her back into the moment. The young girl’s bowl was now in front of the empty seat, with the girl smiling at the vacant place. Hana kept her eyes averted while the child scooped up a spoonful of mush and began feeding it to the emptiness where her other parent used to sit._

_Hana bit her lip. She could recall a time when that strange house had not been so deathly silent._

* * *

 

“That is...incredible.” The first morning back at base Hana and Satya had breakfast together, as had become their usual. Brigitte was off with her family talking to Winston about their place in the Recall. “I can convert light into solid matter, but not into living tissue. I have never heard of such a practice – it flies in the face of everything we know about biology and the building blocks of life.”

“I don’t think this is something scientific, honestly,” Hana said. “Brigitte mentioned having weird dreams that feel like memories. In one of the dreams she was a soldier killed in battle. I kind of think...”

Satya watched her with those wide, curious eyes. _She’s gonna judge me. Oh well._

“I think it might be, like, a supernatural thing? Maybe? I know you’re all about science and stuff and I mean, I am too, but...”

Satya lifted a hand to pause her ramble. “Science and spirituality are not mutually exclusive. In fact, one might argue humanity is the wondrous intersection of the two.”

Surprised by that response, Hana gave a little nod. “I just don’t think there’s any way she was just born. She knows way too much stuff. And since she’s been around she actually _has_ been taking away my nightmares. They’ve been replaced by really weird dreams instead, but...”

“So you believe she is a spirit?”

“Um, yes and no. I think she’s human now, but I kinda think Torbjörn’s statues maybe attract spirits? Like maybe that’s why they only ‘wake up’ once they find some kind of purpose here. And, um...”

Satya folded her hands beneath her chin and added, “Please, continue. I am interested in your theory.”

“I don’t know. She feels really familiar. Last night I dreamed I was married to a soldier who died at war. I’ve never had a dream like that before. It felt so real. It was like being back in an old life I’d forgotten about.”

“Do you believe such a thing is possible?”

“Well I was raised in a Buddhist family, so I guess so.”

“Interesting. Have you discussed this with Brigitte herself?”

“No. I don’t want to weird her out.” Not like it was probably possible to weird out a seven-foot lesbian made of stone...

Hana rested her chin in her palm and stared at the scratched dining hall table. Her parents had instilled those kinds of beliefs in her all her life, and they were of the same belief as many that the colossal omnic was a machine driven forth by an vengeful human spirit. Hence its nickname, _gwishin._

Brigitte was anything but vengeful, but she certainly had feelings she was not letting on to. On the flight back from Gothenburg she had stayed awake to keep watch for as long as she could, but in the early hours of the morning Hana had awakened to find her mumbling in her sleep, the fingers of one hand weakly clutching at her chest. With great uncertainty Hana had elected to reach over and touch her other hand. It was at that moment she experienced a feeling of déjà vu stronger than she’d ever felt before. And it was after that the strange dreams started on Hana’s part as well.

“You are smitten with her.” Satya’s statement was casual, but her words were spoken with confidence. She knew she was correct.

“Is it that obvious?” Hana blew her bangs out of her face, then used the remaining breath to sigh. “Don’t give me crap about it, okay?”

“I had no intention of doing so. Despite her...unusual origins, she has been nothing but good to you. It only makes sense to pursue a partner of such caliber – kind, strong, and protective.”

“Good morning, ladies!” Fareeha, one of the founders of the ‘New Overwatch’, gave them a jovial wave as she trotted by with her tray of food stacked high. Hana answered her in kind. Satya quickly downed a mouthful of coffee and averted her eyes. When Fareeha paused at their table Satya gave her a tiny finger wave, her gaze in her lap.

“Hey,” Fareeha added as she slid into the seat beside Hana, “can I just say I think it’s _awesome_ that you managed to find Reinhardt again after all these years? This probably sounds weird, but he was kind of like a dad to me. Torbjörn, too, I guess, although he always had his own kids to worry about.”

“Do you...know anything about his kids?” Hana couldn’t resist asking despite the fact that it was none of either of their business.

Fareeha turned to study her. In that moment Hana’s breath caught in her lungs. It wasn’t something she would have noticed before meeting Brigitte, but Lieutenant Amari’s warm brown eyes had patches of amber and other shades cutting through them, making them appear almost faceted. In the morning sunlight streaming through the windows they sparkled, just like Brigitte’s.

“Why,” Fareeha asked, “is there something I should know?”

“N...no.” Hana shook her head quickly. “Nothing special.”

“I know they’re nice kids.” Fareeha was back to smiling that dorky smile of hers. “I don’t know how the heck he ended up with so many, but...”

“Yeah...weird.” Hana took a big mouthful of the pancakes she’d decided on for breakfast and chewed slowly, making elaboration impossible.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you two around.” Fareeha gave her a light slap on the back before getting up and going on her way.

The pancakes stuck in Hana’s throat when she tried to swallow them. Did Fareeha know? Did anyone? It didn’t seem like it.

“Fareeha’s...” She started to say it, but thought better and trailed off. Satya, however, jumped at the topic.

“I quite like her. We started off on the, er, ‘wrong foot’, so to speak, but I admire her dedication to work and her moral code.” Satya was positively glowing as she spoke. It seemed she had no idea about Fareeha, either.

Hana decided to keep it to herself. From what she knew of it, Fareeha seemed like she’d had a tough enough life already.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that Reinhardt and Brigitte rushed to breakfast. Hana hadn’t even finished her pancakes when Brigitte slammed her tray down beside her. Reinhardt followed moments later, his tray putting even his squire’s to shame.

“Ah, I have missed this!” Plunking down in his seat, Reinhardt took a good look around the room. “Look at all these heroic young faces! The future is bright!”

Satya’s lower lip curled as she studied the massive man. Hana nudged him, then made a gesture like turning an invisible volume knob. With a quick apology he lowered his voice to just slightly below shouting.

“So how’d it go?” Hana looked to Brigitte then. Brigitte nodded as she was finishing her first mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“Really well! I think Miss Oxton was a little afraid of me at first, but I guess she and Reinhardt knew each other way back when. She didn’t know he was built by my father, though.”

“How’s _he_ doing?”

“He’s catching up with Dr. Ziegler. I think he missed this place more than he let on.”

Satya was studying Brigitte then. Brigitte definitely noticed, but she kept her focus on Hana.

“So you think you’ll be happy here?” Hana gave Brigitte’s hand a light touch. Brigitte nodded eagerly.

“I’m already happy here!”

Hana sighed in spite of her smile. Brigitte had no idea what she was getting herself into by joining Overwatch, but she was too sweet for Hana to refuse her.

* * *

 

The next few weeks were largely back to the grind, just with the addition of a few more Overwatch members. Hana took to working out a bit more in an effort to not look so puny beside her knight. While using the base’s gym she frequently ran across Fareeha, who seemed to spend all of her limited free time taking out her frustrations there. In spite of what she knew, Hana tried not to act different around her.

Brigitte accompanied Hana often, lifting crazy amounts of weight while Hana struggled with two tiny dumbbells. Her support and encouragement actually did help somewhat. Gradually Hana found herself able to lift greater amounts of weight without hurting afterward. She was almost able to keep up with Brig and Fareeha...in her mind, at least.

They were training together one evening when Brigitte said to her, “You know, today marks two months since you brought me home with you.”

Hana lowered the weight she’d been struggling with. “Yeah? It’s been that long?”

Brigitte nodded. “Not that I’ve, y’know, been keeping track or anything.”

Hana smirked. “Of course not.”

Leaning back against the gym’s padded wall, Brigitte folded her arms and met Hana’s smirk with one of her own. It was funny how much her “knightliness” had slipped away the closer they became. She was still a protector at heart, but she certainly wasn’t the girl insisting on calling Hana “Miss Song” anymore.

Hana pushed her aside and walked closely past her, purposefully theatrical in her movements. Brigitte chuckled. Then, when Hana was about to turn back around, Brigitte grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in close. Hana wriggled in her arms.

“You know,” Hana murmured, “I still think about how things might have been if you’d been won by one of those old art collectors.”

“I definitely wouldn’t be this happy.”

Hana wrapped her arms around Brigitte’s neck. Brigitte’s hands slipped down to hold her by the hips. Resting her cheek on Brigitte’s chest, Hana said, “I wish you’d just kiss me already.”

Brigitte’s right hand moved to cup her cheek. “It’s not like I don’t want to.”

“Still too scared?” Though she phrased the question as a tease, her tone was gentle.

Brigitte deflated a little. “When I go back to stone..."

“You don’t know if you will.”

“But I _want_ to.”

Hana’s words dried on her tongue. “What? Why?”

“Because that means you finally feel safe enough to not need me anymore.”

Hana frowned. “I mean, I really don’t think all that trauma will be going anywhere anytime soon. But I’m flattered you think I have it handled so well.”

Brigitte took both sides of Hana’s face in her big hands then. Hana rose up onto the tips of her toes. With a nervous quake in her fingers Brigitte leaned down, tilted her head, and then pressed her soft lips cautiously against Hana’s. Hana’s heart about exploded as she climbed up the massive girl, wrapping her legs around Brigitte’s waist and her arms around her neck again.

Brigitte, obviously not too well-versed in the ways of kissing, quickly pulled her lips from Hana’s with a _smack_ \- then started giggling. The contagious laughter spread to Hana as well. “What?” Hana said between giggles. Brigitte’s lips parted slightly, but instead of speaking she simply threw her arms around Hana and hugged her with all her might. Hana nestled against her, a perfect fit in her embrace.

“See? You were all worried for nothing.”

Brigitte kept her squished to her chest and did not speak. Hana remained cuddled up against her for several long moments, which gradually stretched into a minute. Eventually Hana drew back enough to look up into the other girl’s face. “...Is something wrong?”

Brigitte’s eyes, she realized, were filled with tears. They dripped down her freckled cheeks and spilled onto Hana’s shirt. Brigitte herself seemed uncertain how to react to it. Her gaze flicked about Hana’s face as Hana’s filled with a growing concern. “What’s wrong, Brig?”

“I...don’t know.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I feel happy, but also...sad, for some reason.”

Gently, but purposefully, Hana removed herself from Brigitte’s iron grip. “Brigitte,” she said, reaching up to flick away the girl’s stray tears, “I think you’ve got a lot of stuff to figure out about yourself.”

“No, it’s not important.” She pulled Hana back into her arms. “ _You’re_ important.”

Hana batted her away as she retreated a few steps back. “I’m not doing this – a relationship, or whatever it is – with someone who doesn’t care about themselves. I like you because you don’t usually act like my fans, but sometimes you do. You’re just as important as I am. I’m not some goddess you have to lay down your life for. I’m just a person.”

“But you gave me life, Hana–”

“No I didn’t!” Noticing how Brigitte recoiled at her outburst, Hana lowered her voice. “Brigitte, all those memories you have aren’t meaningless. Don’t you think you must have been alive before? At some point, at least?”

Brigitte clasped her hands together and lowered her head. It was amazing how small she looked in that pose, such a far cry from the warrior she usually was. “I actually have thought about that,” she murmured. “A lot.”

“I really don’t think Torbjörn has some crazy power to create life out of stone.” Hana closed the distance between them again, resting her small hands atop Brigitte’s. “Y’know?”

Brigitte turned her eyes away. “What are you thinking, then?”

Hana studied her – the girl was very naïve yet. She wouldn’t judge Hana for her silly beliefs. “I think his beautiful statues draw spirits to them. Maybe ones that have some kind of purpose they never got to fulfill.”

Brigitte’s spine stiffened. Her fingers drew together into tight fists, though her gaze remained on the ground.

Hana backpedaled a little. “I mean, maybe not, though. That’s just kind of how I was raised to...”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Brigitte said.

That changed Hana’s demeanor. “Oh?”

Brigitte shuffled over to the lockers, where she plunked herself down on a bench with enough unintentional force to rattle all the old metal doors around her. Hana sat down beside her, nearly lost in the other girl’s shadow.

“So, what,” Brigitte murmured with a hoarse voice, “you’re gonna tell me I need to, like, move on to the afterlife or something?” Her tone was uncharacteristically defensive.

Hana shook her head, then lay a gentle hand on Brigitte’s forearm. “No. Those dreams you had – you were a young soldier killed in battle, right?”

Brigitte nodded.

“So you never really got to have a life.”

“Well, I was married...sort of. Not legally, since I was just posing as a guy while I was in the military. But...” She massaged the back of her neck. “God, she was so excited for me to be coming back home. But I had to keep fighting. I needed to keep her safe.”

“And so you got yourself killed for her. And left her all alone.” Hana crossed her arms. “Shocker.”

“Hey, you do the same thing! Every time you jump in that mech and take off I lose a few years worrying you won’t come back.”

“Well unlike you apparently, _I’m_ careful.”

Brigitte withdrew a little, resting her elbows on her knees. “I don’t remember anything after that memory of being killed. The very next thing I remember is hearing your voice. It was so familiar it pulled me back after being in that...void...for so long.”

Hana leaned over in front of her, forcing Brigitte to meet her stare. When Brigitte straightened up Hana took her hands again. “When I first saw you, it felt so weird,” Hana murmured. “I never cared about ‘fine art’ or whatever. But when I thought about someone else leaving with you...”

A tiny smile persevered through Brigitte’s still-teary eyes. She got up from the bench and knelt down in front of Hana. From that position she gave each of Hana’s hands a kiss. With a grin Hana grabbed Brigitte’s meaty hands, yanked them over to her own lips, and gave them both a smooch as well. As she’d expected, that sent Brigitte melting into a flustered puddle. She scooped Hana up with ease and planted a big, sloppy kiss right on her mouth. Hana gave it right back to her, climbing up to better reach the gigantic woman she’d fallen in love with.

“I’m so sorry I left you alone all these years,” Brigitte whispered, swallowing any further tears. “I won’t leave you again.”

“Well I _hope_ not.” Hana ran her fingers down Brigitte’s bicep. “You were kind of a deadbeat, leaving me alone with a kid like that!”

Brigitte angled Hana’s chin toward her with two fingers. “You remember?”

Hana shrugged. “I’ve been having weird dreams, too.”

Brigitte was hesitant, but she ran her fingers through Hana’s hair with a tenderness that made Hana’s heart flutter. She felt so warm and safe in the girl’s strong arms. It felt right. It felt like she had been waiting her entire life to be in that loving embrace.

Lost in the moment, they both startled when the locker room’s door banged open. Fareeha paused, her arm still out from pushing the door.

“Oh, uh, hi. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

Hana hopped down from Brigitte’s arms. “Oh, hey Fareeha!” Thankfully being a livestreamer meant losing any sense of shame, so she was hardly fazed by someone walking in on their tender moment. “You actually _are_ interrupting something, so...”

“Don’t you guys know we have locks on the changing room stalls for a reason? Go have your passionate affair in one of those, like everyone else.”

“Like you and Satya?” Hana circled around her, smirking.

Fareeha kept her head high. “Of course not. Satya’s a lot more high-class than that.”

“Wow, I see what you’re implying.” Hana blew a raspberry at Fareeha and walked away. Brigitte followed her, as always, her chin held a little higher than before.

* * *

 

For some time, Brigitte ruminated on Hana’s theory. The wife she dreamt about looked different than Hana, yet felt like the same person. Was it possible for a human to live multiple times? Those memories seemed to be from a time so long ago.

Her existential pondering eventually led her to the door of an Overwatch member she had never spoken to before, but had heard much about. Mindful of her own strength, she tapped gently on the door with her knuckles. It took a few moments, but then the door opened, revealing a creature even less human than her.

“Are you Tekhartha Zenyatta?” Brigitte asked, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.

The man’s metal face did not change, but the mechanized voice that came from his mouthpiece was cheerful. “I am,” he said. “And you are Brigitte Lindholm, if I’m not mistaken?”

Brigitte nodded, then laid a fist over her heart. “It’s an honor to finally meet you. I’ve heard incredible things.”

Zenyatta chuckled at her formality. “Please, come in. What has brought you to me today?”

Brigitte ducked inside the omnic’s quarters. It looked wholly different from the humans’ rooms – there was no kitchen, for starters, and no bathroom – in fact the whole thing was comprised of one big room with minimal furniture or decoration. Although it was rather empty inside, there was no depression in its vacantness. It was brightly lit with large windows and lights everywhere, as well as candles decorating the walls.

On the floor in the middle of the room there were two square pillows side by side – perhaps an indication of frequent visitors. Zenyatta led Brigitte over to them. He settled upon one with the utmost grace, then gestured for her to do the same. The floor shook as she plunked herself down on it, completely flattening the pillow under her weight.

“Um...” She folded her knees up a little, so as not to completely dominate the space between them. “Well, I don’t know if you know this, but I came alive from stone a few months ago. I was a statue, then I heard Hana’s voice and I woke up.”

It was strange talking to someone who couldn’t make facial expressions, but Zenyatta’s body language helped to put her at ease. He clasped his hands together as he said, “The universe is mysterious indeed. It seems to delight in granting sentience to non-human creatures every once in a while.”

“Can I ask you a...complicated question?” Brigitte wrung her hands as she tried not to stare at the omnic.

“Of course. Finding answers to complicated questions is one of the joys of sentience, after all.”

Brigitte’s gaze fell to her hands, where her fingers softly clenched. She could still feel Hana’s thin fingers interwoven with her own. Although she was not there, taking hold of her as if she were gave Brigitte a focal point to channel her uncertainties into a productive question.

“Do you think we – not humans, but things that were created by them – have anything like a soul?” The minute the question was out she regretted it, but of course by then it was too late to backtrack.

Zenyatta reached out and rested a cold metal hand delicately on her arm. “Humans did not create us, my friend. We are all created by the will of the universe, imbued with its life energy. For us, it simply used human hands to channel that will.”

The omnic’s limb was so delicately constructed, thin strips of metal covering wires that stretched all across his robotic body. It was a stark contrast to her graceless, meaty hands and thick arms. It was hard to believe they were both made from the earth. Yet she knew they were – everything needed to construct their wildly different bodies, and even the bodies of humans, all emerged from the same water and dirt.

“So that’s a yes, then?”

He nodded.

“...I have all these weird memories.” She squinted as she stared down at the floor. “I feel like I was alive before. Is that possible, do you think? To live one life, and then another one?”

“To that, Brigitte, there is no easy answer.” Zenyatta remained in a graceful meditative kneel, but his hand moved upward to stroke at his chin. “But that is my personal belief, yes.”

“Really? Do you remember living another life before this one?”

Zenyatta chuckled. “Sadly my programming is not _quite_ so advanced. But my brothers and I believe in eternal recurrence of the spirit – that it recreates itself many different times and ways, until it may reach a higher state of existence.”

Brigitte tried to cross her legs like Zenyatta was doing. “Does every spirit do that?”

He offered her another sage nod.

“I have a ton of memories from some other time. I remember being a soldier. I remember having a wife and a daughter we sort of unofficially adopted. Every time I dream, no matter what kind of dream it is, those details are the same.”

“The soul knows itself. If it is telling you its story, you would be wise to listen.”

In her short few months of life Brigitte had come to feel like an outsider in most ways – not the least of which her gargantuan size, to say nothing of her bizarre origin. But talking to Zenyatta made her feel a little less like an outcast. At least she wasn’t the only member of Overwatch seeking a purpose outside the binary of animate and inanimate.

What a strange world they lived in, where metal and stone could sit around and philosophize about life and death and what it all meant to them.

“Miss Lindholm,” Zenyatta spoke up after a long, contemplative silence. “Might you be interested in learning more about the beliefs of my brothers and I?”

Brigitte pulled herself out of her thoughts. “Oh, sure!”

The monk rose from his pillow and approached a bookshelf by one of the room’s large windows. Brigitte followed him over there, and was soon handed a thick tome entitled _Meditations on the Spirit._

“This was written by my late brother, Mondatta. He always took care to ensure his works were readable by beings other than just omnics.”

Brigitte looked it over. The front cover was simple and yet elegant, a dark red with engraved golden lettering. Each page was made of a thick, durable paper, clearly meant to last many readings.

“I’ll definitely read this. Thank you, Zenyatta!” She clutched the book to her chest. “I can’t wait to learn more about it.”

Zenyatta touched a hand to where his heart would be. “I am glad I could be of assistance to you, my sister. Return anytime, should you like to talk more.”

Full of a newfound optimism, Brigitte stomped out of the quiet room and hurried off to her own quarters.

* * *

 

When Hana arrived back at the base after a day of training, she found Brigitte curled up on her bed with her nose in an unfamiliar book. “Hey.” Hana tossed her jacket on top of the pile of other clothes in the corner. “Whatcha reading?”

“Oh, it’s this book Zenyatta lent me.” She held it up. Its fancy cover read _Meditations on the Spirit._ “It’s so interesting. These monk guys believe you basically keep coming back to this world and improving yourself a little bit more with each life until you’re ready to, like, ascend or whatever.”

Hana sat down beside her, the bed creaking under their combined weight. “I must be close then, since I’m basically perfect.”

Brigitte grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down into the blankets with her. Hana gave her a light kiss on the lips, though it quickly evolved into a full kiss as Brigitte set the book aside and guided Hana into sitting on her pelvis. Her thick fingers moved up to trail down the side of Hana’s face.

“I won’t argue with that,” she replied.

Hana flopped down next to her and wrapped her arms around the other girl. They nestled in together, Hana melding herself into the other girl’s bigger form. She hid her face from Brigitte long enough to gather her thoughts into how she wanted to word her next statement.

“They want me stationed back in Busan for the summer,” she finally murmured into Brigitte’s chest.

She felt Brigitte’s body stiffen a little. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

When next Brigitte touched Hana’s face, her hand was a little less steady. “Is it that _gwishin_ thing again?”

“There’s been some seismic activity on the seafloor near there, and they’re worried it’s gearing up again.”

Brigitte combed through her hair. “Are you scared?”

“No. That’s just life in my country. It’s been like that for the last twenty years.”

“I’m so sorry. That must be horrible.”

“Eh.” Hana turned her head away. “I’ve never known anything else.”

Brigitte kissed her softly again. As their cheeks nuzzled together, Hana again felt a sense of déjà vu. That had pretty much become her norm by then – Brigitte experienced it all the time as well.

“Will I be going with you?” Brigitte’s tone was tempered, but Hana knew better.

“I have to live on-base there. They’re not gonna let a random civilian live in there with me.”

“I’m not a civilian!” Sitting up, Brigitte puffed out her chest a little.

“Oh? Then what’s your rank?”

“My...rank?”

“Yeah. I’m _Jungwi_ , a Lieutenant in the South Korean Army. What about you?”

“Uh...” She glanced at her armor, freshly-polished on a stand in the corner of the room. “I’m a shieldmaiden.”

“That’s not a military rank, hon.” Hana leaned up and pecked her on the cheek. “You’re a civilian.”

Brigitte tilted her head slightly as she looked on at the armor. “Hm. I guess so.”

Untangling herself from Brigitte’s arms, Hana got to her feet and stood up tall. “So, yeah. I think you should stay here.”

“...Okay.” Brigitte obviously wasn’t happy with that decision, but she bit her tongue and let Hana walk away. Before she walked all the way out the door, though, Hana paused to glance back at her. Brigitte was picking her book back up and settling back into a curled-up reading posture.

Hana swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she tried to convince herself for the thousandth time since being issued the order, _This’ll be good for us. A little time apart will be good._

* * *

 

For the first few days Brigitte felt like she was going to lose her mind. Every couple minutes she was at the computer she barely knew how to use, checking the MEKA tracker Hana had showed her. Every time she checked the mech was safely on-base, and Brigitte would breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe that seismic activity was nothing to worry about.

The days soon stretched into a week, and then two weeks. At that point, mostly burnt out on worrying, Brigitte started to branch out a little. Without Hana to consume all her attention, she began spending more time with her family, Reinhardt, and her newfound friends on the base. One person she particularly got along with was Fareeha Amari. The two of them shared a lot of common interests and values, and she was one of the only people Brigitte felt comfortable expressing her vulnerabilities around. In a way, she felt kind of like a big sister figure.

The two of them were putting away their weights after a workout one morning when Fareeha asked out of the blue, “So do you still want to go back to stone?”

Most everyone at the base elected to ignore her origins and act like she was no different from any other human there. Only Fareeha never shied away from it.

“Well...” She clunked a heavy barbell down onto its stand, then stood up, wiping a bit of sweat off her face. “I mean, I want Hana to feel safe enough without me that she doesn’t need me anymore. But I really don’t want to stop being alive.”

Fareeha helped her put the rest of the gear away. “You’re a good kid, Brigitte.”

“Hey, I’m 23.”

“That’s a kid to me.”

Brigitte sauntered over to the lockers, followed by Fareeha.

“Hey?” Brigitte turned just a bit as she pulled open one of the highest lockers.

Fareeha opened hers as well, right beside Brigitte’s, and stuffed her lifting gloves and other gear inside. “Yeah?”

Grabbing her water bottle, Brigitte poured some of it over her face. She was hot, yes, but the act was more of a stall tactic for a question she was wimping out of asking. _No. Just ask._

Dabbing the sweat-water from her face, Brigitte said, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

The puzzlement on Fareeha’s face lasted only a moment. “Not really, no. Why?”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t know, I just wasn’t raised to, I guess. When a person dies they’re supposed to go to _Barzakh_ , which is basically a waiting room until judgment day. They’re not just out wandering around. Or at least they shouldn’t be.”

“Oh.”

Fareeha’s kind eyes searched hers. “But don’t let me tell you anything. You should find your own beliefs.”

“I think I might be a spirit.” She couldn’t hide the note of excitement in her voice at finally expressing her theory to someone else, even if they weren’t a believer themselves. “The Shambali say that spirits all come back over and over again until we work out our mortal flaws. They also believe that there’s a soul to pretty much everything, including robots.”

“And statues?”

“Yeah! I mean, I have all those weird old memories. Where else would they come from?”

“Well, hey, maybe you _are_ a spirit. Humans don’t know everything.” Fareeha laid a hand down on her shoulder. “And no offense, but your origin story is _pretty_ strange. I don’t know if science could explain that.”

When they were side-by-side like that Brigitte could see the sparkles amidst the earthy brown of Fareeha’s eyes. That was how Hana always described Brigitte’s own eyes – but clearly they were not that special if regular humans had them. Although...

Fareeha massaged the back of her neck and let out a little breath. “Y’know, it’s kinda weird. You talk about having dreams about a past life or whatever, but I get those, too. Do you really think they mean anything?”

Brigitte rested her water bottle on the bench. “You get them, too?”

“Well, yeah. I mean...but that’s not my point, though. I’m just saying, maybe they don’t really mean as much as you think they do.” At Brigitte’s continued stare she added, “I mean I’m not trying to discredit you or anything. But humans – which you pretty much are now – have really incredible dreaming power. We can create all sorts of scenarios in our minds. When I was a kid, I used to”–she interrupted herself with a shy little chuckle–“I used to have all these dreams that I was a giant omnic. Like, one of those big, goofy-looking ones that humans made to help them build big things. I...still have dreams about that, sometimes.” She gave an irreverent shrug.

“Wait, really?” Brigitte pushed her down onto the bench and sat down beside her. “You never told me about this!”

“Because it doesn’t matter. I was just making the point that human brains can dream up any old thing. I just don’t want you to get too into this idea, and feel like you _have_ to live your life one specific way because of it–”

“How did your life end that time?” Brigitte kept her hand on Fareeha’s arm, keeping the other woman tethered to the bench. “...Is that rude to ask? I’m just so curious!”

“That wasn’t my point, kiddo.” Fareeha eased her arm free with a gentle tug. “Listen, the Shambali are great and all – they've very really helped bridge the big gap between humankind and omnickind. But I don’t like the idea of just leaving everything to fate like they do. It’s fine to admire them and their beliefs, but...” Her lips pursed in thought, and she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I don’t know. I guess I just see a lot of me in you, and I always get sucked into things without ever questioning what _I_ actually think of it. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

Her words gave Brigitte pause. She was so accustomed to putting her needs aside for others, to being the protector, that the thought of someone looking out for her was utterly foreign. “Um, well...thanks.” She got back up, grabbed her duffel bag off the floor, and shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants. “...I should probably get going.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to tell you what to do with your life.” Fareeha held her palms up toward Brigitte and frowned. “Guess I just worry about you, Brigitte.”

“I appreciate that. Seriously, I do.” There was another pause – then Fareeha got up, grabbed Brigitte around the neck and pulled her into a half-hug, half-headlock. “Ack!” Brigitte punched her playfully in the arm. “Stop! I don’t want to have to hit an old lady!”

“Old?? Okay, now you’re really gonna get it.” Fareeha released her only to chase after her, the two of them crashing like bulls through the small gym while Brigitte giggled with delight.

* * *

 

While she had easily befriended the likes of Fareeha, Lena, and the other more outgoing members of New Overwatch, Brigitte had yet to break through to Hana’s designated Overwatch partner, Satya Vaswani. The woman was...odd, to say the least. With Hana deployed she did not talk to anyone. Instead she spent her evenings at the base either shut up in her quarters or holed up in the library, dozens of books floating around her, held up by that bizarre solid light she could craft to her will.

A few weeks had passed when, finally, Brigitte found an opportunity to engage the woman. Brigitte herself was in the base’s little library, using it as a quiet reading spot for some of the books she had taken interest in – mostly philosophical works she barely understood but devoured anyway. On that particular day, the door quietly nudged open, drawing Brigitte’s attention to the sound of heels clicking lightly on the wooden floor. Sure enough, Satya soon appeared around the corner, a book already in hand. When she noticed Brigitte, she paused.

“Hello!” Brigitte’s voice echoed through the quiet room, and Satya visibly flinched. “Um, sorry.” She quickly lowered her voice to a more reasonable tone. “How are you, Miss Vaswani?”

Satya’s lip curled slightly. “I did not take you for the literary type.”

“I’m learning a lot from all these books. I can see why you’re so into them.” She moved her stack off the nearby empty chair. Satya walked right past it and settled into a chair in the far corner instead. From there, she opened a thick tome entitled _Contemporary Architecture, Vol. 8._ , and delved right into it.

“So...” When Brigitte’s voice pierced the silence again, she saw Satya’s brow furrow. “What have you been up to? Doing any interesting reading?”

“Not currently.” She scowled down at the book.

Brigitte chuckled. “Well yeah, I wouldn’t expect a book called ‘Contemporary Architecture’ to be very interesting.”

“It is not that the book is uninteresting. I cannot read it because you are distracting me.”

Brigitte went quiet. This woman was so rude. Hana had told her a little bit about Satya’s backstory, having been raised as a living tool by a cutthroat corporation. She could definitely see that social skills were not something said corporation had bothered to hone.

“I was just hoping to get to know you a little better. You _are_ Hana’s partner.”

“And Hana understands when to leave me alone. Apparently that is not a trait shared between the two of you.”

“Well jeez, lady, I’m just trying to be nice.” With a huff Brigitte folded her legs up and buried her nose in her own book. Although her eyes scanned the pages, she did not retain the words on them.

She passed several minutes like this before she was alerted by the sound of Satya clearing her throat. At that her head darted up. She’d expected the woman to perhaps offer her an apology, or, at the very least, to be looking her over pensively or something. But no – Satya had cleared her throat, but she was still just reading away. _Damn. There’s really no getting through to this lady, huh._

She thought about what Satya had just said. _Hana understands when to leave me alone._ Hana did have a good way with people. Satya clearly wasn’t like the other members of Overwatch Brigitte had befriended – maybe there was a different way to go about befriending her.

Awkward as it felt at first, Brigitte decided to tune out the presence of the other woman and simply involve herself in her reading. It was difficult, but gradually she managed to engross herself in the words, a discussion on the concept of Animism. She was fascinated by the subject, which certainly helped. She had no idea how much time passed before something pulled her out of her thoughts again.

Satya was standing over her, her gleaming white metal arm partly extended. Brigitte blinked up at her.

“I am surprised,” she said, “that you do not take an interest in Architecture. Do you even know anything about it?”

Try as she might, Brigitte simply couldn’t bring herself to be rude to the other woman. She closed her book partway and looked up into Satya’s face. “It’s, like, buildings and stuff, right?”

“Architecture is a form of art.” The palm of her hand clicked faintly, creating a perfect sphere of blue light. With her other hand she began to meld the light, stretching it and forming it into the basic shape of a human being. “I don’t suppose I need to elaborate on why that would be relevant to you.”

“Okay, I was sculpted, but that’s not really interesting to me. You don’t study human skin.”

That answer gave Satya pause. Dissolving the light, she rubbed her chin with her organic hand. “...I did not consider it in that way.”

Brigitte set her book down on the armrest of the chair. “I’m more interested in why I’m alive than in how I was made. At first I was content just being Hana’s personal guard, but the more I’m learning about the world, the more I want to find my place in it. I want to figure out my role, the reason why I’m here in the first place.”

“That is a noble pursuit. All creatures and things in this world serve a purpose. The sooner you discover yours, the sooner you may take your place in the ultimate harmonic order of our world.”

The world didn’t seem very harmonic to her. Satya must have been speaking in an ideal sense.

“Have you figured out your purpose?” she asked the other woman.

Satya nodded. “My purpose is to tame the chaotic natural world with beautiful order. I will help to lift humanity up above its beastly origins, to a grander, more perfect state.”

“Wow.” Brigitte nodded to herself. “That’s a really big deal.”

“But worry not, Brigitte.” Satya rested a hand on Brigitte’s shoulder. “Not every creature has a purpose as massively consequential as my own. It can be burdensome at times, but I have prepared my entire life for this. Your fate may be as significant as mine, or it may be much smaller. In any case, every creature’s purpose is important to the universe in some way. You would not be here otherwise.”

Brigitte found herself wondering if it was truly Satya’s “purpose” that was massive, or just her ego. “What happens if I don’t find my purpose?”

“Then you will try again in your next life. On and on until you _do_ find it.”

_Eternal recurrence. Just like Zenyatta said._

“There’s so much to this world I don’t understand yet,” she mumbled. “I guess I’ll have to get out there and discover everything.”

Satya nodded. “And Hana will surely assist you upon her return. She is wiser than she realizes.”

The mention of Hana caused a little twist in Brigitte’s chest. It had been two days since they’d spoken over the holovid, and Hana had been weirdly clammed up during their conversation. At one point something had started beeping loudly in the background, and Hana had disconnected soon afterward. Brigitte wanted so badly to ask what was going on, but Hana couldn’t tell her anything. No matter how strong their bond, she knew Hana couldn’t disclose that kind of information to a civilian.

Brigitte picked up her book and tucked it under her arm. “I think I’m gonna go. It was nice talking to you, Satya.”

Satya sank back into her chair with the stacks of books around it. She gave Brigitte a small wave without looking at her, while Brigitte wandered out of the library.

She supposed that was as close to friendship as she was going to get with the infamous Symmetra.

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure if it was because of her origin or just her personality, but Brigitte found it relaxing to sit quietly somewhere, anywhere really, and just take in her surroundings. Of course, she favored scenic places – and the Watchpoint certainly had its fair share of them. The view of the sunset from the rooftop was incredible. That was where she elected to spend most of her free evenings.

This particular evening she reclined against some sort of motor on the roof, one leg sprawled outward, the other folded up close to her chest. The sunlight that bathed her face reminded her of warm mornings waking up with Hana cuddled into her. She closed her eyes and let it soak into her skin. Up so high it was a bit windy, but she didn’t mind.

Tilting her head back, she probably could have nodded right off if she hadn’t shaken herself awake. Something about falling asleep still scared her, especially when she was in such a relaxed state. Without Hana to wake her, there had already been multiple mornings she’d slept right through, and when she finally did awaken her body wanted to go right back to sleep. Every time she settled into bed after that she found herself wondering if this would be the last time she would ever do so. Without Hana she currently had no purpose, and she knew that meant she could go back to stone at any time.

_Humans are so lucky. They can take their time finding a purpose._

The roof quaked beneath her. Brigitte’s eyes flew open, and she was immediately in a defensive stance. But it proved to be unnecessary, for the creature that approached her turned out to be none other than Reinhardt. Her posture eased as he came and sat his massive form down beside her.

“So, this is where you have been hiding,” he said with a chuckle.

“Not from you, master.” She sat back down, and pulled both knees in close to her chest. “Just...from everything else.”

She appreciated being in Reinhardt’s company, even if just for the fact that he made her feel not-quite-so-displaced in a world built for small people. When he reached around her and put his giant hand on her far shoulder, she leaned in and rested against his side. He did not push the subject, but his soft comfort wordlessly encouraged her to vent her uncertainties anyway.

Her shoulders drooped as she sighed. “Master, you went back to stone after the Omnic Crisis was over. Do you remember how you felt before it happened? Like, were you happy?”

Reinhardt shifted, angling himself to see her with his good right eye. At that angle she could clearly see the deep scar that ran down over his milky left. “I was,” he said. “I was the happiest I had ever been. Your father and I had plans to duck out of the spotlight for a while and focus on the little ones. All was well for a few weeks, and then...”

He ran a hand through his mane of grey hair. Brigitte studied him, a small frown growing on her face.

Reinhardt softly closed his fingers. “It just happened. No warning. I barely knew what was happening until I realized I could not move. All I could hear was the children shouting for your father, and then...nothingness.”

Brigitte bit her lip. Reinhardt pulled her in tighter, and that was all it took to coax out the tears she’d been fighting back. Her thumb and forefinger moved to shield her eyes, though it was pointless – Reinhardt obviously knew she was crying. “It’s not fair,” she whined, despite knowing how pathetic she sounded, “I just want to live. I want to be happy with my girlfriend and my new friends. My family. I don’t want to be a statue.”

“I know.” Reinhardt’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as he consoled her. “But this is the way it must be, my squire. We are here to protect the ones we love. That is our noble purpose. And when it is fulfilled...we return to waiting for the next time we are needed.”

“But I hate that!” Brigitte looked up at him through her teary eyes. “I won’t go back. I’ll keep finding a new purpose every time my old one is finished.”

That earned a chuckle out of Reinhardt. “You probably could,” he said. “After all, I thought my purpose was complete before you gave me a new one.”

“Exactly. We can have more than one purpose. I’m gonna protect Hana for however long she needs it, and then after that, well, I’ll find something else.”

“How long do you suspect you will need to protect her for?”

“I mean...as long as she’s alive, I guess. She doesn’t think the nightmares will ever really go away, so...”

“I worry for her.” Reinhardt rested an arm on one knee, in a similar pose to Brigitte. “I witnessed so much destruction in my time here. It has affected me deeply, and I was built to fight.”

“I know. I worry about her, too. Always.”

Reinhardt patted her on the back. Then, with a little smirk, he said, “This is your punishment for charging so recklessly into battle in the past, in spite of my warnings.”

Brigitte snickered. “Hey, you live and learn. ...And then live again. And learn.”

“Exactly!” He slugged her so hard in the back that he almost bowled her over. Picking herself back up, the two of them cracked up laughing.

“Thank you for coming to talk to me, master.” Brigitte bowed her head to him, still smiling. “I guess I needed it more than I knew.”

“Of course, my dear! I am here whenever you should need me.”

She threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug. Reinhardt returned it with fervor.

“I’m just glad I’m not alone in all this.”

* * *

 

The only light in the room was the glowing monitor – particularly a giant red circle flashing off the coast of Busan.

Hana’s eyes were dry from staring at the screen all day and night. It hadn’t been displaying anything then. Now it was.

The red circle was an estimated area of impact where the _gwishin_ would make landfall. Unlike the last time, there was no way she could simply fly out there and shoot down some scouting drones. This was the real deal. The whole thing.

The rest of MEKA was in the process of mobilizing. Hana hadn’t slept, so there was no need for her to waste time getting ready. She was always ready.

Her fingers trembled as she took another sip of the disgusting energy drink she’d learned to live on. Sure enough, within sixty seconds of the red beacon appearing, an alarm began to sound throughout the base. Hana’s eyes burned when she closed them for a moment – they were so tired. But she was caffeinated enough that she knew she could stay awake through the rest of the night. She could, and she had to.

She picked her phone up off the table, and it lit up with her background picture of herself and Brigitte, with Hana stretched up on her tiptoes to take the picture and Brigitte leaning down to rest her chin on Hana’s head. That all felt so far away when she was in this mindset.

With a shaky breath, she pulled on her piloting gloves and headed for the MEKA garage.

_I have to keep everyone else safe._


	6. Remember to Feel Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to upload the last two chapters together, since they're very closely linked, and I think people would be mad at me if I left them hanging at the end of this chapter :')

Brigitte spent the entire day glued to the holovid, watching every moment of the news coverage around MEKA and the colossal omnic. Hana was, as always, the star of the show – not even her fellow pilots could steal her spotlight with their deft moves and tactical strategies. Even the news reporters seemed to treat it like they were watching a sport. It was a far cry from any battle Brigitte had ever been a part of.

That was Hana’s life on the line out there, and yet the media was treating it like a spectacle. Although Brigitte would be lying if she said she _wasn’t_ a little starstruck watching the incredible feats of her lover. Hana navigated the skies effortlessly, as if the mech she piloted were an extension of her own body. Every time a giant metal limb shot out from the water or a barrage of bullets sprayed out from beneath its surface, she was already nimbly dodging every one.

Her squadmates were just as technically skilled, but it was obvious Hana was a showman. She knew how to keep her audience engaged at all times, and how to make the terrifying and deadly seem awe-inspiring and almost even fun.

Brigitte was so focused on the news and Hana’s livestream that it took her stomach growling for her to realize just how long she’d been sitting there. Still, though, she did not pull herself away until she absolutely had to. Hana seemed to have it handled, she convinced herself, and it wasn’t like there was anything Brigitte could do from the base anyway.

Well, there was _one_ thing she could do. She could worry. Which she was already doing, immensely.

She barely had any concept of what time it was when she wandered down to the dining hall. It wasn’t until she glanced out the window that she realized it was pitch-black outside. _Oh. It’s nighttime._ The dining hall was empty, and only a few lights were on overhead, leaving much of the hall in shadow.

Brigitte walked over to the pair of vending machines by the far door, casting their eerie neon glow on the tiled floor. She pulled out the card Hana had lent her and pushed it into the machine. It beeped, then asked her what she wanted. After a moment’s deliberation she pushed the button that dispensed one of those big, sticky pre-wrapped honey buns.

Tearing the plastic open, she ate half of it in one bite. And then she noticed something.

In the corner of the room, sitting at an unlit table, was Fareeha. Her eyes were on the surface of the table, a cup of coffee by her hand sweating its condensation onto the table’s worn surface. She didn’t even react to Brigitte’s presence.

“Fareeha?” Lowering her snack, Brigitte bent down a little to observe the other woman. At the use of her name Fareeha’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she did not respond. “What’s wrong?”

After a long hesitation, Fareeha just shook her head.

Brigitte sat down opposite her. “What? What is it?”

At her insistence, Fareeha finally made a little sound in her throat. “I always thought dreams never meant anything,” she mumbled. “But...”

Brigitte tilted her head. “Did you have a weird one?”

“The opposite, actually. Same dream I’ve had my entire life.”

She swirled the cup of coffee on the damp surface of the table. Brigitte watched absently. “You said you have dreams about being an omnic,” she eventually said.

“Yeah, but I mean, there’s no way. They’re not...I mean, they’re just robots. I don’t hate them or anything, but they’re not...” She paused, perhaps waiting for Brigitte to say something. When she didn’t, Fareeha continued on. “...I don’t mean that. I’ve worked with amazing omnics. But they’re not human. They don’t have human souls. There’s no way a person could go from being an omnic to being a human.”

“Like how a person could never go from being a statue to being a human?” Brigitte lifted her eyebrows, a little smirk on her face.

At that Fareeha slid her gaze downward. “...Yeah. Like that.”

Brigitte reached over and gave her a light pat on the hand. “Hey, don’t be so down about it. Even if it is true, we’ve probably all been everything already. I think it’s kind of exciting, honestly!”

“Yeah...exciting.” Fareeha’s chin slipped into her palm, and she sighed a long, deep sigh. “A construction omnic. Figures I’d be something everyone just uses. And considers big and stupid.”

“Or something that everyone relies on, that puts its muscle _and_ brains towards helping people.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s true! Papa says that’s how so many of the world’s biggest buildings were made. Humans couldn’t do it alone.”

Fareeha shook her head again, quicker this time, as if to clear it. “I’m sorry, Brigitte. This isn’t your concern. You’ve got everything else to be stressed about.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s a good distraction, anyway.” Brigitte’s hands clasped together, attempting to find some sort of comfort within herself. “I keep getting these visions of the worst possible outcomes...every time I try to sleep, I wake up with this jolt of fear. And all my dreams feel like I’m drowning.”

“It’s all the stress. You’ll burn yourself out worrying 24/7.”

Brigitte scratched at a dry patch of skin on her wrist. She didn’t know how to stop worrying. Everything inside her screamed that this arrangement was wrong – she should be there with Hana, keeping her safe from her own overconfidence. She was a star, but she seemed to hold such little regard for her own life. While using Hana’s computer, Brigitte had stumbled across some bookmarked pages about PTSD and depression. Since then Brigitte had not been able to shake the guilt that weighted her. The guilt of multiple lifetimes. _Every time she needs me the most, I’m not there._

Fareeha got up from the table. At first Brigitte thought she was leaving, but instead she went over to the vending machine and bought an orange soda. When she brought it back to the table, she set it down on Brigitte’s side. Brigitte’s hand reached out uncertainly, and, following a nod from Fareeha, she picked it up and took a swig. It was hardly the feast she usually downed for dinner, but this was all her worried-sick stomach could handle tonight anyway.

“I feel like neither of us is gonna sleep tonight,” Fareeha uttered.

Brigitte set the bottle down, half-empty in a single gulp. “Nope.” Her skin was breaking out in goosebumps all over. She told herself it was probably from the cold drink, but this wasn’t like anything she’d felt before. Sucking in a breath, she realized how constricted her chest felt, and as she ran her fingertips across the scaly skin of her arm she noticed the cold dampness of sweat breaking out all over it.

This was not normal at all. Was this one of the “panic attacks” Hana had been reading about online? Maybe...

Swallowing her fear, she did everything in her power to be strong and overcome it. Still, the thoughts lingered in the back of her mind. She had never felt like this before.

* * *

 

It was pouring a cold, incessant rain down into the East China Sea that night. The sea, in turn, coughed it back up as a thick fog. Thunder sounded in the distance, a warning to any potential large metal objects soaked in condensation that might be flying through the sky at that moment.

The _gwishin_ knew what it was doing when it decided to strike at a time where human vision was limited and when their bodies, so delicate without the ability to consume electric power, would have to be mindful of the lightning forking through the sky.

She fought to stay as alert as she could, but despite her best efforts the wear and tear on Hana’s body from ages of insomnia and stress was dulling her senses. She boosted just in time to avoid the blast of bullets from the _gwishin’s_ underwater “mouth”. It didn’t like that – moments later her mech was grabbed around the foot by a giant metal tentacle. _Tokki’s_ alarm sounded as a display on the HUD showed damage to its right leg.

It took only a moment for the other pilots to realize she was caught. Immediately they focused fire on the tentacle holding her. The omnic retreated underwater, but it dragged Hana down with it, and even her powerful boosters could not free her from its grip. Bracing for impact did little when she smacked full-force into the sea’s choppy surface, disorienting her long enough for the _gwishin_ to pull her through the water and drag her toward the jagged hole MEKA had blown in the creature during its last attack that it now used like a carnivorous mouth. Through the openings in the mech seawater gushed in, and the mech’s alarms, now distorted by the water pressure, increased in volume.

She could see the rest of her squad above the surface zipping around the omnic. They were harmless little flies against the living fortress before them.

The _crunch_ of metal meeting metal momentarily deafened her. The omnic ground her mech between the shards of shredded metal it wielded like teeth, shattering the windshield and raining glass in on her. By then she had no protection against either the omnic or the crushing ocean roaring in around her on all sides.

The force of the water pushed the air out of her lungs. Reflexively she gasped for more – and pulled in nothing but ice water. Her body tried to expel it with a cough, but it was, of course, useless underwater. Her eyes burned and blurred from the salt as she kicked and twisted inside the crushed MEKA, and darkness enshrouded her as the _gwishin_ pushed the mech deeper into its jaws, swallowing it down into its boiling innards.

The time she’d come closest to death, Hana had discovered she could overclock the mech and turn it into a giant bomb. After that, every subsequent MEKA model had come with a self-destruct button. She was drowning, but she could still push it and get out in time. She was a strong swimmer.

With a fist, she slammed the blue button engraved with **자기 파괴하다**. Immediately the mech ejected her, giving her a head start escaping the _gwishin’s_ jaws. With her lungs full of water instead of air, though, everything was getting fuzzy, and she was beginning to feel confused. She swam in what she guessed was the direction toward the surface – only to realize the light she was following was the tracking light the _gwishin_ had locked on to her.

Hana gave a desperate kick in the opposite direction. The omnic let out a mechanized growl. There was a shift in the water around her – then a stabbing pain exploded in her chest. The _gwishin_ yanked her backward, and the movement left a cloudy scarlet trail in the water. Through her confusion, Hana realized that the omnic was the source of her pain. One of its razor steel tentacles had pierced right through her chest.

The creature flicked her away like a pesky insect. As its limb tore out from her chest, the water all around her became so clouded with blood that she could no longer see. Or maybe it was her vision going black from the lack of oxygen. Her body made a weak attempt to push toward where the surface might have been, but she stood no real chance of making it there. The _gwishin_ wrapped around her once again, and pulled her even deeper down. The last thing her senses picked up was a blinding light, and then an explosion that collapsed part of the omnic’s massive body. The impact tipped the omnic sideways. Still entrapped by the monster, Hana went down with it as it dragged the two of them down to the pitch-dark depths.

* * *

 

The rest of the base had been dead quiet – so when they suddenly heard footsteps upstairs both Brigitte and Fareeha snapped to attention. It sounded like quite a few people. “What the heck?” Brigitte hopped up from her seat. “It’s the middle of the night...”

“Yeah, and there’s no mission waiting to come in. Everyone’s here at base right now.”

“Not everyone.” Brigitte was up and rushing for the stairs before Fareeha was even out of her chair.

* * *

 

The central meeting room was the source of the footsteps – Lena, Winston, and Dr. Ziegler were all positioned in front of a holovid. On the screen was a woman Brigitte had never seen before. As Brigitte approached, all three of the other agents turned around.

“What’s going on?” Brigitte came right up to them, her worry overriding any concerns about politeness.

The woman on the screen was dressed in a navy jacket with golden buttons, and her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her posture remained erect and unfazed even at the interruption.

None of the Overwatch agents spoke. They exchanged only wordless looks. The lack of an explanation began to ramp up Brigitte’s already-overwhelming anxiety. Her chest tightened, and her mouth dried right up. “...What...” That was the only word she could manage.

The dread that crept up inside her twisted her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick.

“Brigitte.” When finally Angela spoke, her voice was strained. “I think you should come with me for a bit.”

Tears formed in Brigitte’s eyes before she even knew what was happening. Zombie-like, she let Dr. Ziegler take her by the shaking hand and lead her out into the hall.

* * *

 

Nothing that happened after that registered in her mind. Dr. Ziegler was talking, but while she technically understood the words Brigitte could not even begin to process them. The doctor then led her somewhere else, and then there were more people talking to her, since the commotion had woken much of the base by then. Still Brigitte could only focus on how sick she felt.

They weren’t making sense. Nobody was making sense.

Her shaking legs could not hold her up anymore. She collapsed to all fours on the hallway’s steel floor tiles. Lena and Angela tried to grab her before she went down, but they were nowhere near strong enough to hold her up.

Within minutes, her father, her siblings, and Reinhardt were all clustered around her. Two of her little sisters tried to pull her up, but ultimately it was Reinhardt who helped her back to her feet. It didn’t last long, though, as her knees gave out again and she fell into him. He held tight to her, and she felt the tears begin to seep out, gradually at first, then coming on stronger and stronger as the reality sank deeper in. She clutched him with all the strength she had. He held her just as tightly.

Her limbs felt stiff and heavy, but she fought it with all she had.

The entire time, only a single coherent thought remained with her. _Is this how she felt when I never came home?_

* * *

 

The atmosphere around the base was surreal in the days following the news. People talked, but it was different. Everyone was quieter and more to themselves. Even the normally rowdy atmosphere of the dining hall during meal time was suppressed.

Satya had not spoken one word since being told.

The night it had happened, Brigitte had been unable to sleep. That pattern continued for close to a week. Day in and day out she laid in Hana’s little pink bed, hugging tight to her pillow as the tears flowed endlessly onto the bed that had once been made so perfectly, in that military way of hers. Six days passed like that, and she did not sleep for a single moment. At first visitors came by to check on her, but gradually they fell off, as Hana’s absence meant each of them shouldering more work, and perhaps they could not bear to digest all of the misery that radiated from her.

On the seventh day, or rather the middle of the night, gazing up at the blank ceiling in the suffocating darkness, she felt a tingle begin in her hands and feet. It spread up her arms and legs in waves, not altogether unpleasant. Brigitte closed her eyes and turned over on her side, allowing herself to relax a little. Her brain felt like mud after struggling for days to process everything that was going on. She had no energy left for anything, even thinking.

Tears leaked out of her closed eyes as she settled her cheek on her forearm – her skin, she noticed as she settled in, was so much rougher than usual. At that moment she didn’t care enough to be concerned about it. What did it matter if she went back to stone at that point, anyway? Despite what she may have tried to convince herself in the past, her life had no meaning without the person she was born to protect. Especially since she had failed that person so spectacularly.

She shivered; her body temperature must have been dropping. The blanket over her did little to help, though she pulled it tight to her anyway. _Hana..._ The next time her eyes closed, she found it difficult to re-open them. _It’s not fair. I just found you again. It’s not fair._

Curled up in a ball, for the first time since her birth she let herself drift quietly off into a deep, complete slumber.


	7. A Light That Never Goes Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 6 and 7 were both uploaded at the same time, so make sure you read Chapter 6 before this one!
> 
> Also any and all minor character cameos are done solely at the self-indulgent discretion of the author and may not necessarily have any significance to the plot ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”_

_Hana’s small hand settled into the palm of Brigitte’s. They were seated on the roof of the Watchpoint, the sunset a watercolor of orange-pink, as Brigitte had always loved._

_The fact that Hana was there should have alarmed her. But, lest it end too soon, she didn’t question it._

_Brigitte closed her fingers around Hana’s hand, stroking it lightly with the edge of her thumb. “What’s the point of being there without you?” Her voice quivered as she spoke. “I said I’d find other purposes, but...”_

_“Who says you have to be there without me?” Hana leaned into her line of sight, wearing that familiar look of impish indignance. “I’m **very** resilient, you know.” With a sad little smile Brigitte reached out and combed her fingers through Hana’s hair. Hana swatted her away. “Hey. I’m serious.”_

_Brigitte sighed. Hana settled back down beside her, leaning her head against the wall behind them._

_“If I could wake up again, I’d probably go guard you,” Brigitte said. “It’d be a good place for a statue, anyway. And we’d kind of be together.”_

_Hana narrowed her eyes. She was staring directly at the sun. “I don't need a guard. The people of South Korea need a guard.”_

_Brigitte leaned forward a bit. “Are you saying I should take your place?”_

_“I don’t want you to...”_

_“I will, though.” Brigitte rose to her feet. “I’ll help in any way that I can.”_

_“You’re still a hunk of stone, you dork.” Hana reached up and poked her in the arm. “How are you gonna defend anybody like that?”_

_“I guess I’ll have to wake up.” She grabbed Hana by both hands and pulled her up. “Just like before, right? I did it before.”_

_“It’s been a long time.”_

_“How long?”_

_“I don’t know. I’m just a creation of your mind, so I can’t know anything it doesn’t know.” Hana gave an irreverent shrug. Brigitte frowned. “Hey, don’t give me that look! I’m your brain trying to convince your body to wake up. That's a good thing!”_

_Brigitte’s shoulders drooped as she drew away a bit. “...I kind of thought you were the real Hana visiting me.”_

_“Nope.” Hana folded her arms. “If the real Hana could manifest herself like this, she’d be kicking the gwishin’s butt right now.”_

_“Oh, yeah.” A small, wistful smile warmed Brigitte’s face. “She would.”_

_The sun dipped below the horizon, far faster than it would in the waking world. In place of pink, a hazy purple spread across the sky._

_Hana stretched up on her tip-toes and nuzzled Brigitte’s cheek with her own. “So come on and wake up already. Everyone’s waiting for you.”_

_As the last rays of the sun disappeared, Hana, too, began to fade. In fact, the entire world around her was quickly swallowed up by darkness. Brigitte faced down the end of the sunset with her posture pulled straight and tall._

**_She’s right. The world does still need me._ **

* * *

 

Unlike last time, it wasn’t the voice of her true love that woke her again. The dust that had settled on her stone skin tickled as she drew closer to consciousness. Like the life cycle of all rocks, her progress was almost immeasurably slow, inching toward consciousness like a stone gently eroded by the sea.

Except for one day, when she woke herself up with a sneeze.

“Huh...?” She sat up, all of her stiff joints cracking audibly as she did so. With a cough, she brushed the rest of the dust off of her. _How long have I been out of commission?_

She was still in her bedroom, and absolutely nothing had changed. The nightstand beside her was coated in dust, and there were spider webs running from the table’s surface up to the shade of the bedside lamp she used to read by. Beside that was a 3D image projector. It ran on solar power, and was apparently soaking in the sunlight from the open curtain nearby, for it was still projecting the picture of herself and Hana that they had taken shortly before Hana’s deployment.

For a moment the thought crossed Brigitte’s mind, _I need to go find Hana!_ It did not take long for her to remember what had transpired the last time she was awake. Regardless, it was a renewed kick in the stomach when it came back to her. _Right. She’s gone._

It took a monumental effort for her to pry herself out of bed, leaving an indent in the mattress in the shape of her body, and stumble across the room. Her eyes were bleary, and her steps were uncoordinated – it was nothing like the first time she had awoken. Her first awakening had been refreshing, exhilarating in a way – hearing Hana’s voice stirred her to _want_ to be awake and alive. This time, perhaps because she was forcing herself to wake, she felt groggy and drained. She found herself yawning as she reached for the dusty door handle. The thought crossed her mind that she wished she could go back to sleep.

As soon as the door slid open, Brigitte halted. The base had changed since last she walked its halls. There was damage to the walls and the doors, and the floor had stark black streaks carved into it. Even the ceiling was marred with cracks and dents. It was suspiciously quiet, too. As Brigitte navigated the dim hallway, she realized that virtually all of the other doors were wide open and completely empty. The whole place looked abandoned.

“Hello?” she decided to call out. Her voice echoed down the vacant hall. Nothing responded to it.

The end of the hall was sealed off by a pair of metal doors clamped tightly shut. Brigitte knocked on them. “Hello? Is anybody out there?”

A door at the farthest end of the hall slowly ground open. Brigitte spun around.

Standing in a doorway, zombie-like, leering at her with bloodshot golden eyes, was the most unwell-looking woman Brigitte had ever seen. Her skin had an unnatural purple hue to it, like she was deprived of oxygen, and there were broken blood vessels visible on her cheeks and around her eyes. She wore a silky scarlet robe, far fancier than how one would expect someone so sickly-looking to be dressed, and her long, dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, leaving various split ends sticking out everywhere.

“I thought I was the only one they shut away in here.” She spoke with a thick accent Brigitte was not familiar with.

The sight of the woman kicked Brigitte’s protective instincts awake. “Are you all right, ma’am?” She strode over to her, immediately checking for bruises or other signs of harm. With skin that color, it was quite difficult. “Do you need help?”

“Oh, I need all the help in the world.” She reached back into the room and retrieved a mug with a cheerful-looking cartoon spider on it. With two hands she brought it to her mouth and took a sip. “I’ve been kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped??” That would explain why she looked so horrible, though it didn’t explain her apathetic demeanor. “By Overwatch?”

“Well, this is actually the second time it’s happened to me, so I guess you could say I was kidnapped back.”

“Where were you before?”

The woman took another sip of coffee, the smell so strong it made Brigitte’s eyes water. The woman’s eyelids were drooped in an uncaring gaze, but when they fell on Brigitte’s shoulder tattoo they widened just a bit.

“Oh,” she said, “you are one of the Lindholm children.”

“Yeah. Torbjörn’s my dad.”

The woman set her drink back down. “I remember you.” She took a step closer, examining Brigitte with those eerie yellow eyes. “I was there when he was carving you.”

“Really?” Brigitte stepped back, now studying the woman, too. “Who are you?”

She touched her frostbitten-looking fingertips to her chest. “They call me Widowmaker,” she said. “At the time your father had not chosen a name for you.”

“Reinhardt chose my name, actually. It’s Brigitte.” She realized quickly that the woman was deflecting the conversation away from herself. “So, uh, ‘Widowmaker’, why are you locked in this part of the Watchpoint?”

Her response came as Brigitte predicted. “Why are _you?”_

“Actually, I just happened to be asleep in here. But _you_...” Brigitte extended her hand in Widowmaker’s direction, waiting.

Widow folded her arms. When she did, the silken sleeves of the robe drooped a bit, and Brigitte caught sight of not only how thin her arms were, but also the fact that there were scars running around the entirety of both wrists.

“I’m dangerous,” she said.

She looked about as dangerous as a dying animal. “Uh...okay.” Brigitte chuckled, not sure if she was joking. Her neutral expression made it impossible to tell. “I’m pretty dangerous myself, actually. I’ve broken a _lot_ of chairs here.”

To her surprise, Widowmaker actually smirked at that. But then she said, “So, they did not want you around anymore?”

“I went back to stone for a while. There was nothing they could do.”

Despite how Brigitte towered over her, the other woman did not seem fazed by her size or bulk. Instead she simply wandered past her, over toward the sealed metal doors. Again Brigitte was surprised how normally she walked and talked despite how ill she looked. It was as if she were wholly accustomed to being deathly unhealthy.

She reached up and pressed a button next to the door. Brigitte waited for something to happen. Nothing happened.

“ _Dieu_ , it’s like being in prison here. I was treated better by terrorists.” She pushed the button three times in a row. Finally the screen beside the door powered on, revealing a familiar face.

“What?”

The first thing Brigitte noticed was that Fareeha had a massive welt of a scar on her right cheek. It didn’t look like a sword slash, but rather impact from a blunter weapon. Her lips also sat a little bit crooked. If Brigitte didn’t know better, she’d almost think Fareeha had been punched in the face by a boxer or something. Her eyes still glittered, but they were much icier than Brigitte remembered. They locked on to Widowmaker with a mix of disdain and exhaustion.

“I requested solitary confinement in this hellhole,” Widowmaker replied. With one chillingly-cold hand she grabbed Brigitte’s wrist and led her over in front of the camera. “I do not need a bodyguard.”

The moment Fareeha spotted Brigitte, her entire demeanor shifted. She pulled back a little, eyes wide, all of the ice thawing instantly. “Brigitte?” And then, just like the Fareeha Brigitte had always known, she broke out into a big, dorky smile. “Oh my gosh, we didn’t think you’d wake up again! It’s been so long!”

“How long, uh, _has_ it been?” Brigitte massaged the back of her neck as she took a pointed look around at the ruined hallway. “What even happened here?”

“It’s been...” Fareeha paused, mumbling under her breath. “Like...” She turned to someone off-screen. “What year did we lose...?” She didn’t need to say the name for Brigitte’s heart and jaw to clench. She heard a soft voice off-screen, and she recognized it quickly as Satya’s. “...So it’s been six years. God, the time flies.”

“Six years?!” Brigitte staggered backward a step. “I thought it was, like...a few months...”

“We were taking care of you up until about six months ago, when we got attacked. That’s when we ended up with this one”–She gestured dismissively at Widowmaker, who simply shrugged–“and we closed off the most damaged wing of the Watchpoint. We were short on rooms after that, and we didn’t really know where to put you, so...” She grimaced. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Can you tell me where Hana is?” As soon as she asked, Fareeha’s face told her she needed to clarify. “I mean, I remember what happened to her. I’m wondering where she, you know, _is._ ”

Fareeha nodded in understanding. “They wanted her home. She’s got a really nice monument in Busan.”

Widowmaker was simply watching their interaction, no visible emotion on her face.

Brigitte swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “How are things holding up there?”

“Actually really well, from what I hear. She managed to do a number on that colossal omnic before she went down, and afterward they got a global outpouring of donations and aid, and thousands of volunteers offering their services to take that monstrosity down for good. It’s not completely out of commission, but it’s nothing like it was during Hana’s time. She’d be really happy to see it now.”

 _So at least her death meant something._ “I want to go there,” Brigitte said. “I want to see the monument.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Fareeha glanced down at something. “Here, I’ll let you out.”

“Uh, what about–”

The doors slid open. Immediately Brigitte looked over at Widowmaker. To her surprise, the other woman simply leaned against the wall and waited.

“You’re not gonna try to escape?” Brigitte asked.

“I am in here because I requested my own wing. Why would I want to ‘escape’?”

“I thought you said it was like a prison.”

“Oh, I was being dramatic.”

Brigitte twisted her mouth a little as she stared at her. Then, opting not to waste any more time on this strange woman, she instead walked out through the open doors. As they were closing behind her, she heard Widowmaker say, “You know, Lieutenant Amari, perhaps it would help jog my old memories a little better if I had one of those nice canopy beds like Gérard and I used to have. And maybe if I had some real food instead of the slop you eat seemingly everywhere outside of France...”

The doors shut behind her. Clenching a fist, Brigitte blinked away the dampness in her eyes and pushed onward.

* * *

 

 Everyone had grown so much since the last time she’d seen them. To her shock, Reinhardt was still up and about – he greeted her with a massive bear hug. Her father hung back a little, but she could see the smile on his weathered face. He looked so much older, but he was still the same on the inside.

No one was particularly pleased about her decision to immediately take off for Busan, but neither was anyone really surprised. “She would want you to see her home,” Reinhardt said, resting a hand on her shoulder in that paternal way of his. “I hear they are faring quite well these days.”

“Yeah, Fareeha told me that, too.” She picked up the shield and mace her father had apparently been keeping for her. “But I still want to be ready, just in case.”

“Of course. You are a protector at heart, after all.”

“Speaking of faring well,” she said, “you’ve managed to stay awake all this time?”

His grin instantly shed decades off of him. “I took your advice, my squire. I have been finding renewed purpose in this world, especially now that Overwatch is active again.”

Of course he was. Wherever there was someone to be protected, Reinhardt was sure to be there.

She was ready to leave for Busan almost as soon as she woke up, but arranging a jet took a little time, even for Overwatch. So she spent the morning eating breakfast and getting re-acquainted with her family. They were all so grown up now, leaving their father even further behind in terms of height. He had crafted an army of giants, it seemed. Meja, the youngest among them, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Brigitte herself. And now that they were older, it was even more obvious how much of an influence Reinhardt had had on their designs. They were almost like combinations of Reinhardt and Torbjörn.

“I saw pictures of it before.” Elin waited until the others had gone quiet to broach the subject she must have known was on Brigitte’s mind. “It’s incredible. Like...something you’d see in a history book for a queen.”

“I’ll bet.” Brigitte tried to sound chipper about the topic. “I mean, she was like the protector of Busan. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d renamed the whole city after her.”

No longer a giddy teenager, Elin had a much more insightful way about her. “Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, her tone serious. “Not for me, I swear. I just...wouldn’t want to do something like that alone.”

“I appreciate that. But no thanks. This is something I have to do on my own.”

“Are you sure? Because I…” Her glittering bronze eyes swept downward, letting her choppy red bangs fall slightly over them. “This probably sounds weird and creepy, but like, I thought about you guys all the time. I even had dreams about you and stuff, um, when you were gone.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

With a gentle hand Brigitte reached over and gently lifted her chin. At first Elin would not meet her gaze, but gradually her eyes drifted back up to meet her big sister’s.

“You want to come?” Brigitte asked her.

Elin’s hand took hold of Brigitte’s, and moved it away from her face. “No. It’s okay. You should be able to be alone with her for a while.”

 “Thank you for offering.”

“Of course. Now hurry up and get ready to go.”

Brigitte smiled a tired little smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

 

The long flight felt so much longer alone. The entire time Brigitte tried, and failed, to distract herself from the thoughts that permeated her mind.

 _Hana won’t be there._ If what Brigitte had come to believe was true, Hana would long since have found another form to take. Or maybe Hana Song was her final life before moving on to wherever. If that was case, it was likely they would never see each other again. There was no way Brigitte was anywhere close to some flawless transcendence.

She leaned over and peered out the window. There was really nothing of interest to see. After a while all of the land looked the same.

A few hours into the seventeen-hour flight, she was already going mad with a strange mix of boredom and anxiety. She thought about taking a nap, but the threat of not waking back up again kept her wide awake. Instead she dug her shaking hands through the duffel bag by her feet, pulled out one of the books she’d brought from the library, and tried to lose herself in reading it.

That only made her more tired.

She had never felt this way when Hana was around. Even sleeping for six years, her body still felt exhausted. _Come on, wake up. You’ve still got a purpose!_ But regardless of what she told herself, an idea kept crossing her mind – a vision of taking to one knee in front of Hana’s monument, an eternal stance of loyalty and devotion, and letting herself become part of the memorial. The only counterargument she had for that desire was that it would not be what Hana would want – it would not help with protecting the innocent, living people Hana could no longer defend. The _gwishin_ may not have been a terror like it was in Hana’s lifetime, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t work to be done because of it. _I’m not giving up just like that. Hana doesn’t need me anymore. The living world does._

As hard as she tried, she could not remain awake for the full seventeen hours. About five hours in, she nodded off with her book still open on her lap. That was where she remained for the rest of the flight, her mind conjuring all manner of bizarre dreams to fill the time.

* * *

 

The city of Busan was alight with neon signs, traffic lights, and all sorts of screens full of flashing colors and advertisements in Korean. It was more than Brigitte had ever dealt with before, and it was more than a little overwhelming. _Seems like losing Hana didn’t slow this place down any._ She supposed that was the nature of humanity; the world couldn’t stop for every death. Even the loss of national heroes had to be adapted to and moved on from. It was the nature of a mortal race.

Surprisingly, Hana was not resting in the heart of her home city. She was in a quiet lot on the perimeter of Busan, atop a hill that overlooked the sea. At the bottom of the hill the wrought iron fence’s gate was open, allowing anyone to come and go as they pleased. There were at least a dozen other people there visiting loved ones of their own. They glanced at her as she passed, but most were too lost in their own grief to really pay her any mind.

The size of the cemetery was sobering – a reminder of just how much death and destruction the country had endured over the last few decades. One plot she passed had a balloon tied to its headstone and a doll sitting propped up against the cold marble. Another had a toy soldier of some kind. These adornments, combined with the small size of the plots, made her step falter as she passed them. _God. I hope they find peace in another life._

The main path through the cemetery wound around the hill in a gradual incline. She knew she had reached the top once she felt the sea breeze tickle her skin. And then, as she moved toward the edge of the seaside hill, she saw it.

It really did look like something out of a history book. Sculpted from shining black marble was a life-size replica of her MEKA, standing tall, facing the sea. Sitting atop it, legs folded, gazing out over the ocean with that young and yet world-wise stare of hers, was an elaborate, detailed statue of Hana herself. Brigitte’s heart trilled a little upon seeing it – it looked so much like her. The amount of detail put into it was incredible, crafting such delicate features, like the tiny folds in her clothing and her hair blowing gently behind her, from something as brutish as stone.

At the feet of the MEKA there were all sorts of offerings – everything from flowers and chocolates to brand new video games. There was a flat stone embedded in the soil with something engraved on it, but it was entirely in Korean. It seemed well-kept, as the grass was carefully brushed away from the stone, and there was hardly any moss or dirt anywhere on the statue.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Brigitte sank to her knees in the grass. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful,” she whispered. The carving captured every bit of her youthful optimism in appearance and her cockiness in posturing, perched atop a massive war machine seemingly without a care in the world. It was also a perfect placement for the memorial itself – seated like that, she could keep watch over the sea forever.

She couldn’t do anything about it, though. She was empty inside. Unable to rise and defend her country from another threat ever again.

Brigitte tangled her hands into the grass and lowered her head until her forehead rested against the stone marker in the ground. There, in spite of her best efforts, the tears began to come. “It’s just not fair,” she choked out through her tears. “You should have been able to see your home start to rebuild. You should have been able to enjoy the rest of your life in peace. You should have – _ow!_ ”

Something heavy cracked her right in the back of the head. Immediately she jolted upright – then scrambled backward to avoid another chunk of something falling toward her. “What the hell?” The thing that had hit her looked to be a jagged chunk of rock. “Did someone...?” She looked around for a possible thrower, but there wasn’t a soul up on the hill with her.

As she was trying to figure out what had happened, she noticed a faint noise close by. Something was cracking. It sounded like the statue itself was...

“Aghhh!!”

Acting on instinct, Brigitte leapt for the falling person before she could even process the situation. Despite their small size, they hit Brigitte like a sack of bricks, knocking her flat to the ground. Still, she managed to catch them, she realized as she was sitting up–

And she found herself face-to-face with a concerned, human, and very-much-alive Hana Song.

“Are you all right, miss?” Hana scrambled off of her. As she did, Brigitte noticed Hana had patches of grey dust on her skin, and bits of stone were still crumbling off of her arms and face. “I heard crying.”

Brigitte looked up at the MEKA statue. There was no longer a carved likeness of Hana sitting atop it. Instead its surface was littered with shards of marble. Her gaze then slid down to Hana, beholding her for the first time in six years. Her sweet, chocolate-brown eyes were glittering in the sunlight as she watched Brigitte uncertainly, surely wondering why Brigitte had not yet answered her.

“I...” Brigitte reached out with a shaking hand, and brushed the dust from Hana’s cheek. “...I’m wonderful, actually.”

Hana offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet with a surprising amount of strength. “You look familiar.” She scrunched up her face as she studied Brigitte. “Have we met before?”

Brigitte reached out and took her hand. Hana watched as Brigitte brought it close to her mouth and gave the back of it a light kiss. At that, Hana’s eyes went wide. “Oh!” She quickly entangled the fingers of both hands with Brigitte’s. “Brigitte!”

“Hi, sweetie.” A smile emerged even through her tears. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Hana cupped Brigitte’s face in her hands and gave her a small kiss. “What happened?” she asked once they separated. “The last thing I remember was chasing after the _gwishin_ , and then...”

“A lot’s happened.” She sniffled as Hana’s right hand drifted over and wiped away her tears with a knuckle. “I think you’ll be happy about most of it, though.”

They gently touched their foreheads together. Hana’s breath, as it mingled with Brigitte’s, was ice cold. It also smelled like she’d been drinking seawater, but in the moment Brigitte couldn’t care less about that.

“Is Busan safe?” Hana asked. Her voice was low, as if she almost dared not ask.

In lieu of an answer, Brigitte picked her up and hoisted her high into the air. Hana was certainly a lot denser than before, and she was noticeably taller. For once, Brigitte didn’t feel like she was likely to crush her. Of course, Brigitte was still strong enough to lift her.

Hana gazed outward, beyond the cemetery. From so high up, the cityscape was clearly visible. “...It’s not all destroyed,” she said.

“Fareeha says you did some irreparable damage to the colossal omnic when you went down. It’s weaker than it was before, and the rest of MEKA has been successfully keeping it at bay since you’ve been gone.” She caught herself panting a little as she held her girlfriend up. Hana must have noticed, for she slipped down and landed beside Brigitte then.

“All I wanted was to make sure all the civilians who live here could stay alive and safe. I remember being pulled away from here...but I couldn’t rest...no way...”

“I know that feeling.”

When Hana settled her hands back into Brigitte’s, Brigitte noticed that they, too, were larger. She was still smaller than Brigitte, but probably close to Fareeha’s size now.

Brigitte had thought she couldn’t be any more attracted to her before. Now that she was bigger, stronger, and way less breakable, Brigitte’s heart was ablaze. Unable to contain it any longer, she threw her arms around Hana and pulled her in. Hana grabbed her dangling locks of hair and pulled right back. They met in the middle, Hana’s lips tasting like stone and dust and Brigitte’s own tears as they continued to flow down her face.

“This is all so much to take in,” Hana whispered as their lips parted just a bit. She took a step back to behold Brigitte in her entirety. When she did, her foot accidentally crunched down on something. “Oh!” She bent down and picked the item up, brushing some grass off it. “...Video games?”

“I guess people have been leaving those here for you.”

“Oh, that’s so nice! I’ll need to buy a new system for these, but...” She trailed off. Rubbing the back of her neck, she quickly added, “Although that’s probably pretty low on my priority list of things I need to do right now.”

“Yeah, maybe a little bit.” Brigitte nudged her in the side. “Although you don’t have to just be a soldier anymore. You’re allowed to have a life.”

“But look how big I am now!” Hana twirled around in demonstration. “ _This_ is a soldier body. And now I can get shredded like you!” She flexed her muscles. Nothing really happened, but Brigitte applauded politely anyway.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to abuse this newfound height?”

“Because I totally am. Nobody’s ever gonna dangle something out of my reach again.”

Unable to help herself, Brigitte picked up one of the other video games on the ground and held it up as high as she could. Hana grabbed for it, but was still too short to reach. “Hey! I didn’t die for this!”

Brigitte handed her the game, then leaned down to smooch her on the forehead. “So what else do you want to do with your second chance at life?”

Hana’s little smile told her it was not going to be a selfless act of heroism. “Well, I’m _starving._ And all I can think about is that there was always this one little stand in downtown Busan that sold the _best_ custard cakes...I wonder if they’re still there?”

“Only one way to find out, right?”

Hana slipped her hand into Brigitte’s. “Yeah, give everyone in Busan a heart attack thinking the ghost of Hana Song is devouring all their desserts.”

“Exactly!”

Their smiles and laughter only lasted as long as it took them to descend from the hilltop. Once stepping down to ground level, Brigitte was again struck with the sheer expanse of this single cemetery. Hana stopped beside her, and her eyes drifted over the landscape. Brigitte squeezed her hand.

For every distressed soul strong enough to break the barriers of the universe and return to their old life, there were a million that would never see their friends or loved ones again.

“I used to think about every civilian that died under MEKA’s watch,” Hana murmured. “I’d read through all the obituaries online, to remind myself of everything we lost every time there was an attack we couldn’t stop in time.” She dug the toes of her bright white bodysuit soles into the dirt as she spoke. “The last thing I remember is thinking about how many people were going to die without me standing between them and the _gwishin_.”

“Well...” Brigitte knelt gently in front of an old headstone with a fresh bouquet laid in front of it. “Maybe they’ll come back.”

“I hope so. Or at least find some peace somewhere.” Hana crouched down beside her. “...Wow. I have to bend for so long to be at ground level now.”

Brigitte snickered. “You’ll get used to it. ...Oh wow, your legs _are_ super long now. You look like a cricket.”

“Gives me more range to reach out and kick you.”

“You probably don’t want to do that. I’m the one who’s gonna have to apply stone sealer to those crazy things when they get scratchy in parts you can’t reach.”

Although they joked, when their eyes met there was a sense of solemnity in both girls.

“I’m not gonna stop fighting, you know,” Hana said quietly. “Ever.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” Brigitte leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on each cheek, then one on the lips, winning her a tiny smile from her lover. “So come on,” she added, “let’s get something to eat. Then we’ll figure out where to go from here.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Although everything was different, it was as if no time had passed at all.

* * *

 

All four of them stood, staring, hands on their chins in a pensive pose. A quick glance at the others revealed nothing to Hana; she had no idea if they were gathering any more from this experience than she was.

Fareeha was the first to speak up. “...Nope. I still don’t get it.”

Satya broke away from them to gesture up at the sculpture. It wasn’t person-shaped, but rather what Satya called an “abstract” design. To Hana it looked like a bunch of twisted metal beams fused together.

“What is there to ‘get’?” Satya huffed. “It is making the utterly mundane into a work of art. Demonstrating that even the most garish and utilitarian of materials can be transformed into a visual marvel.”

Hana exchanged a quick look with Brigitte. Brigitte offered only a shrug. Hana snickered.

“Honestly, I would expect at least the three of you to understand.” Satya crossed her arms indignantly. “I’ve never seen such uncultured works of art.”

For someone who had apparently refused to speak for months after her death, Satya certainly had an odd way of showing her enthusiasm upon Hana’s return.

“Sorry, Satya.” Hana tried to suppress her laughter when she spoke. “I guess we’ll never appreciate fine art.”

“I appreciate ‘fine art’,” Fareeha said. “This looks like how I looked after my first flight test in the Raptora suit.”

At that Satya brightened. “Yes! See, you can see something else in it besides its mundane true appearance. It is symbolic. It manifests as a different feeling for everyone who looks at it.”

“It looks like what I felt like when I first woke back up from stone,” Brigitte said.

“That’s what I feel like when I’m inside the MEKA now,” Hana added.

“Yes, yes! Now you’re getting it!” Satya grabbed Hana by the hand and dragged her over to the next piece. Fareeha and Brigitte hesitantly followed.

The next work on display was a giant swirl of glass with wisps of various bright colors – firetruck red, lemon yellow, and ocean blue – sealed inside it.

“Looks like a marble,” Brigitte said. “But, like, squished.”

“Yeah! The colors are very kid-like.” Hana circled around it. “I think I get this one a little better. It gives me a nostalgic feeling.”

“Really? Nostalgic?” Fareeha studied it some more. “If anything it makes me feel kinda...I don’t know. Claustrophobic? Because everything’s just suspended in there.”

“Claustrophobic? Really?” Hana knelt down and peered through it. Through the glass she saw Brigitte make a distorted face at her. Hana grinned.

“I don’t know. It’s art. Isn’t it open to interpretation?”

“Yes, and that is the beauty of it!” This was the most animated Hana had ever seen Satya. “I think I can make art appreciators out of you yet.”

They all followed behind her as she led them toward another room. At one point Fareeha sidled up next to Hana, arms folded, a small smile on her face. “I still don’t get most of this artsy stuff,” she murmured, “but I love how excited she gets about it.”

Hana looked her up and down. “How are you doing?” she asked in an equally low voice.

Fareeha grew a bit more serious at that. “I mean, same as you two, I guess. At least I know now that my mother really _did_ want me.” Dropping her voice to a mutter, she added, “Just didn’t want to go through the inconvenience of giving birth to me.”

“Or maybe she just wanted to make sure you turned out big and strong so you’d be safe. It sounds like her life was pretty dangerous.”

 Fareeha gave an apathetic shrug.

A sudden warmth enveloped her hand. “Hey, Hana.” Brigitte drew her away from Satya and Fareeha. “Come here a sec.”

Hana let Brigitte lead her over to the far end of one of the museum’s white walls. Their heavy footsteps echoed against the polished marble floor in a way Hana was still growing accustomed to. She had always been light on her feet.

“God, it’s so quiet in here,” she murmured. That only made sense, considering the rest of the museum was empty. Had it not been, Hana would have been swarmed by now.

Although Hana had reserved the museum for a private visit, it wasn’t just the four of them in there, of course. As they stepped through the doorway into the next room, Brigitte called out to the museum’s other group of visitors. Immediately Elin appeared between them.

“Hey,” she said, “some of this stuff is actually pretty cool. There’s a whole room with poetry quotes painted on the walls.”

“How’s Papa feeling about it?” Brigitte asked. Elin’s little grin told them all they needed to know, but then they heard it for themselves.

“’Fine art’ my arse.” He emerged from behind a glass case, gazing disdainfully up at the object inside. “These days it’s nothing but garbage. Look at this!” He flung his claw out at one of the sculptures encased in glass. “What is this even supposed to be?!”

“I think it’s a horse.” Brigitte squinted and tilted her head at it. “What do you think, love?”

The glass it was shaped from was a deep blue, not very horse-like at all. Two malevolent red gems embedded in its head seemed to serve as its eyes. “It looks like a demon horse. With a fish tail.”

“It’s a sea horse!” Elin pointed to the plaque at its base. “It’s called _Deep Sea Horse._ ”

“It definitely _looks_ like something that could live at the bottom the sea,” Hana said.

“You would know,” Brigitte replied.

“It’s true. I’ve conquered land _and_ sea. I’m like a frog.”

“Which explains the frog legs.”

“Did I not tell you I _will_ kick your butt with these big feet? I can’t find any cute shoes in my size anymore, so I have nothing to lose.”

“Oh, hush. The shoe companies literally make you custom shoes to advertise their brand.”

Hana leaned in for a smooch, but when Brigitte moved to oblige her Hana instead whipped her head away. “Pfft, okay. Thanks.” Brigitte pushed her aside.

Reinhardt was being surprisingly quiet, opting to simply look over the various displays. “Everything okay, Master?” Brigitte called out to him.

“The guard told him to be quiet,” Torbjörn said. “So now he won’t say anything.”

Reinhardt stood up tall and struck his fist against his heart. With a roll of her eyes and a small smile Brigitte said, “You know, Master, there’s such a thing as _too_ much respect for authority.”

Reinhardt widened his eyes and vigorously shook his head.

“You can be as loud as you want, Reinhardt.” Hana purposely spoke at an elevated volume. “We have the place to ourselves.”

After a moment of hesitation, Reinhardt cleared his throat. Then he whispered something.

Both Hana and Brigitte leaned in closer. “What?”

He whispered again.

“What??”

He threw his giant arms out. “I said I love this place!” His voice rattled the glass all around them. “It’s so beautiful!”

Hana could understand now why the security had told him to be quiet, but she did not dissuade the old man. “Yeah, it is!”

“I want to create beautiful art like this! Perhaps I should take up painting in my free time!” He pointed at a watercolor painting of some flowers tucked between two larger paintings. “Look at how beautiful that is. It conjures such emotion!”

“I bet you’d be great at painting, Master!” Brigitte nodded eagerly. “Don’t you think, Papa?”

“Oh, I’d love to see a brute like you try to master painting.” Torbjörn smacked him with his claw.

“Well, if an impatient little man like you can take the time to carve giant slabs of stone, I think I have a chance.”

“Hmph. Well then I hope your paintings come to life and start sassing you, too.”

Hana and Brigitte giggled. Torbjörn waved them off with a poorly-concealed smile.

Beside the painting Reinhardt had acknowledged was a conventional portrait of a rather unconventional family – a man, a woman, and two omnic children. Elin was staring up at it. Hana came up beside her. Although Hana was certainly considered a tall woman now, she just barely passed the shoulders of most of Torbjörn’s children. Elin was no different. When she noticed Hana at her side, she turned slightly, though her focus remained largely on the painting.

“Do you ever feel weird seeing stuff like this?” the girl asked.

“Me?” Hana touched a hand to her chest. “Or just in general?”

“You. I mean, your whole life’s purpose was fighting a giant robot that was trying to wipe out humanity. Does it feel weird seeing people choose to associate with them?”

Hana folded her arms, studying the picture for a long minute. Then she said, “A little, yeah. But not every omnic is like the _gwishin._ It can be hard to separate them sometimes, but I try really hard to. After all, ‘the citizens of South Korea’ includes friendly omnics, too.”

Elin returned her gaze to the painting. “So, um, I don’t know if Brigitte told you what I said.”

“What you said?”

“About...the dreams. And stuff.”

Of course Brigitte had told her. “Yeah,” Hana said. “But she didn’t say what they were about.”

“I didn’t tell her that.” Elin clasped her hands together in front of her. “It’s, like...I don’t know. So weird. I was always a huge fan of D.Va. But after you...you know, I started having these dreams that made me feel like one of those crazy fans. Dreams that you were, like...” She smudged her shoe against the floor tiles. “My mom?” Immediately she pulled back, laughing a little too loudly. “Isn’t that super weird?”

Hana stared up at her. “That’s not weird at all, actually. If our dreams really mean anything, then Brig and I took care of a young girl before. A long time ago.”

“Wait...seriously?” Elin rubbed the back of her neck with one big hand. “Are you trying to tell me D.Va actually _is –_ or was – my mom?”

“I wasn’t your mom. I think your real parents had died. Brigitte’s had dreams that led her to thinking the girl we took care of was the daughter of another soldier.”

But it was too late, and the spark had already taken root within the girl. “D.Va’s my mom! Holy crap, that is _awesome!”_ She grabbed Hana up and almost snapped her spine in half crushing her into a hug. “I always knew I was your biggest fan!”

“ _Ack_ -!” Hana gasped in a lungful of air. “ _Brigitte’s your mom, too..._ ”

“Yeah, but she’s not nearly as cool as you are.” Elin released her just as Hana was about ready to pass out. “You’re _D.Va._ Which means – wait, if I was raised by you then why am I not as cool as you? What kind of rip-off is this??”

“Well, you _did_ get some of Brigitte, too.”

“Ugh. She must have dominant uncool genes.”

“What are we talking about?” Brigitte poked her head in between the two of them. Elin simply sighed.

“We’re talking about how much we love you.” Hana took Brigitte’s face in her hands and gave her a smooch. Brigitte’s face flushed the slightest bit.

“Heh, well, I love you guys, too!”

“I was destined for greatness,” Elin mumbled. “The universe nerfed me.”

“Well you’re the one who had to go and choose a big, dorky statue for your next body.” Hana smacked the girl’s wrist. “What kind of dummy does that?”

Brigitte slung an arm around her sister’s shoulders. "She just wanted to be cool like her big sis.”

Elin buried her face in her hands and groaned.

“I think you mean cool like her Uncle Reinhardt!” At some point Reinhardt had apparently joined the conversation, for he was now posturing beside Brigitte. The both of them were grinning, Reinhardt’s inspiration in Brigitte never more obvious.

“Don’t worry,” Hana whispered to Elin, “my parents actually _are_ cool. You can be an unofficial Song.”

“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll fit right in,” Elin loudly whispered back.

Their banter was cut short by a telltale clicking of heels across the floor. A glance at the doorway revealed, of course, Satya strolling into the room. Fareeha followed close behind.

“You ran off without me,” Satya declared, disdainfully sweeping her hand in Hana’s direction. “I wanted to show you the minimalism room!”

“Sorry, Satya. I just got so caught up in the art experience that I guess I drifted.”

Brigitte rolled her eyes at the lie.

“It’s all my right, my dear. But come, I have much to show you!”

Hana squeaked as cold metal fingers gripped her wrist. As Satya was dragging her away, Hana waved her free arm at the Lindholms and mouthed _Help me!_

Joining the others, Fareeha waved back to her. “Bye, Hana! Have fun!”

For the sake of the joke Hana plastered a grimace on her face as she was led away from the others. But once they stepped into the next room, Hana’s pained, false smile disappeared in favor of a real one.

“So where’s the minimalism room?” She was already looking around for the answer.

“It is upstairs. I am interested in seeing your interpretation of a few of the more abstract pieces.”

“So you like my art critiques?”

“They are certainly novel.” Her fingers settled upon her lips as she let slip a little giggle. Hana leaned around to face her, still smiling herself.

“What’s so funny?”

“I am just hoping you will not fall in love with any of them this time.”

“Wow. I could say the same about you, you know.”

The exhibit halls echoed with their laughter, in a manner Satya would once have considered “most uncouth”. It was funny; when she had first been assigned the enigmatic and intimidating Symmetra as a partner, Hana had rolled her eyes and sighed in dismay. She was sure Satya had done the same upon learning her assignment.

“So you think Winston knew what he was doing when he put us together?” Hana asked.

“Hmm...perhaps. Or perhaps we are just adaptable.”

“True. You _did_ take some getting used to.”

Satya hesitated, and for a moment Hana was unsure whether she would laugh or be offended. Then, with all the awkwardness of someone who had never done such a thing before, she reached up, slipped her organic fingers into Hana’s thick, wavy locks of hair, and scruffed her hair up. Hana tried not to laugh at the unexpected gesture. Satya quickly drew away, murmuring, “I see Fareeha do that sometimes. It is a sign of affection.”

“I know it is.” Hana clucked her tongue. “And so is this.”

She wrapped her arms around Satya and pulled her into a hug. Satya made a little sound of surprise, but returned the gesture in earnest.

Her eyes combed over Hana as they parted, and with a little smile, Satya said, “Do you remember when I told you that the closest humankind has come to immortality is through living on in art?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hana waved a hand. “Of course you were right. You’re always right.”

With a sage nod Satya said, “I’m glad you acknowledge this.”

As they walked away, Hana said, “So, you think you’ll ever join us?”

“Join-?” She must have gauged Hana’s true meaning from the look on Hana’s face, for she touched a pensive hand to her chin and replied, “Only if I could be made of something more elegant than stone. Hard light, perhaps...”

“Oh yeah, and then you can experience getting shattered, like your turrets!”

“Excuse you! My turrets are growing more durable with each model.”

“They’ll never be as durable as stone.”

“I will shatter _you_ if you do not be quiet.”

“And then I’ll just keep coming back again and again and again, until you realize that there’s no getting rid of me.” Hurrying after Satya, she added, “ _And_ I’ll hold all my championship titles forever!”

“Leave it to Hana Song to manipulate the universe’s cycle of eternal recurrence to maintain a high score,” Satya murmured. Despite a shake of her head, Satya still pulled Hana along after her, eager, as always, to show her the next work of art.


End file.
